


Bitter Hands And Broken Glass

by Compoundeyes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: By probably I mean DEFINITELY, Eventual Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Kidnapping, Kinda, Language, Mercy being a cinnamon roll, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Post-Recall, Protectiveness, Reaper being an ass, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Tags Are Hard, The hanky panky is strong with this one, They probably bang don't worry, Tragic Romance, What Have I Done, mostly headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9264008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Compoundeyes/pseuds/Compoundeyes
Summary: Life and Death exist together like two sides of the same coin. One cannot be without the other. No matter how much he longed to skin her, Death could not, and no matter how much she longed to save him, Life could not. But somewhere in their limbo was a dance, a back and forth, a sway, spinning like a flicked coin, and for a moment, the two sides could almost touch...





	1. Haunted

**CHAPTER ONE**  

 

That voice. She would have known that voice anywhere, no matter how distorted. That voice was the one that sent a thrill up her spine, and a pit down into her stomach. That voice had belonged to the man she once worked with, admired from afar for years, always secretly hoped would be a little too reckless just so she would have an excuse to talk to him. The man she had a childish crush on, and grew much deeper feelings for. The man she became leery of, desperately wanted to bring back from the evil that consumed him, and begged the heavens for release from the darkness that blinded him... The man that she found in the rubble of carnage left from rage and conflict, the first guinea pig for new technology she had developed, the first _failure_ of that technology. That gruff, rich voice was the one that faded out along with the man to whom it belonged. Angela could never forget that voice, no matter how hard she tried. 

 

With one sinewy arm trapping her slender body back against his, and the other clawed hand clamped so tightly onto her face she could scarcely breathe, that voice growled into Angela's ear on the hot breath from beneath the mask that concealed him, bitterness and some twisted brand of fulfillment dripping from each word that caused a very rare form of panic to swell up within the woman. 

 

"You're mine now, _Doctor_." 

 

 ********  

 

 _Angela stood helplessly staring at the fallen base, all of her research and hard work lay buried in the rubble of the crippled headquarters. Word that a battle had broken out reached her, and Angela knew instantly what was happening. What she didn't count on, however, was finding a collapsed heap of concrete and steel where her_ _livelihood_ _once stood. Moreover... "_ _Morrison_ _!?_ _Reyes_ _!?" She charged into the smoldering remains,_ _the_ _prototype staff_ _strapped to her back_ _bashing and catching_ _demolished structure_ _as she went._ _The doctor_ _began shoving broken slabs and beams away where she could, driving her shoulder into hunks of rock and metal to move them with her will, while desperately peering in or around them where she couldn't force movement. "_ _MORRISON_ _!?" Angela's voice grew more frantic with each shout, "_ _REYES_ _!?" Soon she was blindly running just frantically hoping she would find either of them unconscious and perfectly okay._  

 

 _She didn't._  

 

 _"GABRIEL!"_  

 

 _Her scream rang out from the top of her lungs before hysteria set in and Angela fell to her knees in a heap of tears, shudders, and hiccups. She_ _crad_ _led_ _herself on the ground for what felt like an eternity, surrounded by her loss everywhere._ _While t_ _aking in a_ _hyperventilated_ _breath,_ _she heard it. Although very soft, and quite faint, she heard it. A_ _groan._  

 

 _Picking herself up, urgency and panic fueling her renewed drive, Angela scrambled over some debris and_ _haphaz_ _ardly_ _darted_ _through the wreckage toward that small noise. She knew she heard it. There had to be someone left alive. "GABRIEL!?" Her cry echoed for a moment as she paused and panted, her eyes filtering through her surroundings for any signs of life. A weak, gurgled cough answered her back. She was_ _closer. A_ _lthough the spark of hope burned within her, such a sputtered sound took away any thoughts that they might be unharmed. Angela pushed on in search of the sound, digging and crawling through as much as she could until_ _she slipped through some broken beams and climbed_ _over_ _a slab of smashed concrete. She was_ _greeted with an arm reaching out from under beams and_ _collapsed_ _building._  

 

 _That hand, tattered remains of the glove it wore,_ _familiar scars that peppered it—be it_ _blood soaked_ _or not_ _\-- u_ _ndoubtedly_ _belonged to_ _the_ _Blackwatch_ _commander_ _. She could practically still feel its warmth on her face when only days earlier, he had run the back of_ _it_ _down her_ _cheek_ _, slowly, softly, longingly, only to snap it away and storm off soon after. The anger that burned inside him was hotter than any of the flames licking her_ _ankles in this mess of debris. At the time she had wondered where that kind anger came from, the same kind that was consuming his being_ _. Now she only cared that it didn't just get him and everyone else killed._ _Angela's mouth went dry as she stepped forward and attempted to free him. With a few tries, she managed to finally uncover enough of his body that all she could do was gasp._  

 

 _Lying there, riddled with bullet holes_ _and_ _shrapnel_ _, burns on half his body,_ _and a fractured piece of steel lodged firmly in his abdomen, was Gabriel Reyes. Unaware that she had covered her mouth in horror, Angela only came to some form of coherence when she felt_ _tears sliding down her fingers. Slowly kneeling down beside him, she began to try and figure out how to save him. Fracture_ _d_ _..._ _e_ _verything_ _,_ _g_ _unshots, no doubt sceptic, critical blood loss,_ _shock from the burns,_ _blood in lungs,_ _and God only knows how much damage from that beam stabbing into his midsection. Nausea set into her stomach, not from the gore, but because she was realizing that he was practically dead already._ _Actually, she wasn't sure that he_ ** _wasn't_** _already dead._ _Gently cupping his face, Angela swallowed, "G-Gabriel, can you hear me? Look at me if_ _you can."_  

 

 _His deep brown eyes_ _were_ _glazed over, dull and lifeless. Although waiting for some sort of_ _movement_ _, Angela_ _quickly realized_ _he was unresponsive. Her fingers_ _reluctantly_ _pressed into his wrist in search of a pulse to be met with silence. Her body trembled. Pressing her_ _digits_ _into his neck, she frantical_ _ly tried to find a_ _heartbeat_ _, but the only one she felt_ _was in her own fingers_ _. Should she do compressions? Should she try to drag him out and call for help? Should she—Angela's hands gripped the staff on her back and slammed the bottom into the ground, unleashing its power into his body._  

 

 _Gabriel_ _spasmed_ _and convulsed, his muscles_ _bucking against_ _being forced back to life_ _._ _Every cell seemed to glow with some heavenly aura that attempted to seep into his being and was being violently rejected._ _Soon the light died and all that was left was Gabriel's broken, twitching body_ _. Guilt would have wracked Angela had she not been desperate_ _,_ _fe_ _verishly_ _hoping that it would save him. No matter what the side effects of the Caduceus Staff were, she would worry about that later. All she cared about was getting Gabriel back._  

 

 _Hours seemed to pass, although it was surely only minutes, as Angela watched the convulsions continue, trying to hold him down so he didn't cause himself more harm and speaking gently to him in an attempt to make_ _one of them_ _feel better. "You a_ _re going to be okay Gabriel, I promise." Just twitching. "It_ _—it i_ _s just doing its job, see, with_ _nano_ _technology, I was able to... Well, you never much liked to listen to the science behind my work, did you?" Sputters and shudders were the only answer... U_ _ntil all at once, they ceased. Holding her breath, Angela stayed silent, her eyes unblinking as she watched him for any signs of life, however she got none. With the effects of her staff wearing off, all that remained was Gabriel Reyes' lifeless corpse._  

 

 _"No... How could it not work? I... I checked, and I double checked the numbers, I ran tests, I—I did it all. It should have worked... It should have done something..." Angela_ _whimpered softly as she once again searched him for a heartbeat. But he wasn't healed. He wasn't revived. What_ _he_ _was, was dead. Tears flowed from Angela's cheeks, shock setting in. "No, Gabriel... It was not supposed to... This should not have happened." Carefully running her fingers down his_ _features, she lightly touched her forehead to his, "I was not supposed to lose you." Heaves of breath forced themselves out of her and washed over his lifeless face. She soon heard the rescue crew in the distance, and wobbly a_ _s a newborn deer_ _, she stumbled out of the wreckage. Slowly making_ _her way back to her_ _brethren, Dr._ _Ziegl_ _er_ _was_ _only able to utter out, "Reyes is dead."_ _Before blankly wandering out of the_ _heap left behind_ _._  

 

 _Maybe if she had found him sooner. Maybe if she had triple checked her science, her numbers, her staff. Maybe if she had been a better doctor_ _._ _Maybe then she could have saved him from death._ _Maybe if h_ _er love had been enough_ _, m_ _aybe_ _then_ _she could have saved him_ _from himself_ _. Maybe..._  

 

 ********  

 

It had been a normal day, Angela was hard at work researching until the already dim light outside finally snuffed. Glancing out the clinic window, she decided she should eat something after missing lunch... And breakfast. Nothing was unusual, she took a stroll through empty streets and chilled air down to the nearest market and browsed around until she finally settled on a small salad from the deli. When she found the clouds had made up their own minds and now peppered the earth with rain, she went back in to buy an umbrella-- which she had done so many times because she never remembered to keep one-- and then started her trek back. 

 

Slowing her pace, Angela savored the smell of precipitation and the gentle patter on her umbrella. It was always so soothing. Pausing her steps, she took a moment to enjoy pure silence around her. No cars. No lab assistants or nurses pestering her. Nothing but atmosphere and streetlights. As a breeze swept some golden hair from her cheek, Angela looked up from under her protective barrier at the darkening, cloudy sky and inhaled deeply... Then froze. 

 

Was that a person on top of that building? Her eyes narrowed a bit at the figure in the distance, trying to distinguish what she was seeing. It was the shape of a person—albeit a person of surprising stature. Tall, she would say a male, muscular build, and looking right at her. If it was a person at all, that is. Why would a man be up there unless they were going to jump? Or perhaps the point was to watch down below. To watch _her_. No, surely that was paranoia... Right? 

 

Angela was pondering her options when the figure seemed to melt into the building and disappear. Blinking a few times and swallowing roughly, a sense of unease washed over her. Something was wrong. She felt an ominous presence, one she couldn't shake... One that was close. A wisp of something brushed her hand, and upon inspection, Angela found some sort of black smoke that wanted to cling to her fingers. Tentatively, the woman began to turn around before being halted by a large hand that gripped her face and yanked her back, a powerful arm pinning her body into her ghostly attacker. 

 

"You're mine now, _Doctor_." 

 

The Reaper had come for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, yes I am trash. Thank you for asking. :D
> 
> I opened my laptop and before I knew it I was writing a multi chapter mercykill fic and my love for these fictional characters is out of control and possessing my hands. Halp.
> 
> So here we go, buckle in because it could be a loooong ride in this fic. I see a lot of fluff for mercykill (which don't get me wrong, I love domesticity and snuggles and nose kisses as much as the next person, I intend to write some of that at some point), but to me, I find the horror of their relationship to be more fascinating. The tragedy of it. That's why I wuv them so much. AND THAT'S WHAT WE'RE GONNA EXPLORE! Thanks in advance if you bother to read my garbage, I honestly appreciate every view, and I hope you get some entertainment out of it... 'Cause I sure do get a lot out of writing this stuff lol.
> 
> And Mercy is like the ultimate cinnamon roll, omg.
> 
> EDIT: minor wording tweeks. Expect to see a lot of those. :'D EDIT 2.0: more minor things that I realized I missed.


	2. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG ASS CHAPTER INCOMING
> 
> Note: if you notice odd wording, mistakes, or things that flat out don't make sense through the course of this story, be aware that I'm going to go through and adjust those things I find. I try to edit as I go... More or less. Enjoy.

**CHAPTER TWO**  

 

The slender woman squirmed in his vicelike grip to no avail, attempted squeals and hollers humming through her throat in some feeble effort to attract help. Instantly, Reaper swept her into a nearby alleyway and flattened his back against the brick of one wall, digging his claws into his prisoner's skin until they threatened to puncture her cheek. Dipping his mask to her ear, he emitted a calm growl, 

 

"One more sound and I will gut you alive." 

 

Within the blink of an eye all fight within her slowly soaking frame drained like a rush of rain down the gutter. In its place was fear, making her body rigid against his armor, head tipped back against his shoulder, breath shallow and quick under his crushing restraint. 

 

In truth, he wasn't worried about getting caught, even if he did it only meant he'd get to break out his weapons early, it was simply that her futile struggling irritated him. He preferred cooperation, it was faster, quieter, cleaner. Though to be fair, when he dreamed of slaughtering her it had never once been a clean affair. When it came to Mercy, all he ever wanted was _messy_. 

 

Almost subconsciously, Reaper slid his clawed forefinger up and down her jawline with a chuckle of gravel vibrating as he tilted his face further into the Swiss woman's neck. " _Good_ girl," He mocked, knowing exactly how to spark her ire. Angela's shuddered gasp was music to his ears before he whipped a shotgun out of its holster and cracked the butt of it into her temple. She instantly crumpled, falling over his arm like a towel on a wrack. 

 

A sneer of contempt escaped him as he hauled her light body over his shoulder. He'd be damned if the fallen angel didn't smell exactly the same—like sanitizer and medical equipment, with a soft peppermint undertone that always reminded him of—bile rose up in his throat along with long since buried memories. It took everything in Reaper not to kill her there, but she was needed. For now. Starting off down the alley, he quickly made his way toward their ride. 

 

 ********  

 

 _The battle was over. It had been_ _forced to a close by the explosions_ _, a clear winner left unnamed._ _Gabriel refused to give up no matter how many bullet holes he took and l_ _uckily, Jack wasn't doing so hot himself. Hopefully now he was literally hot—on fire and_ ** _dead_** _and rotting in hell_ _. Choking on his own blood and very much collapsed lung, that thought brought Gabriel some minor comfort._  

 

 _Everything_ _sea_ _red_ _inside him and pieces of_ _ceiling prevented him from even being able to see the sky one last time. He knew he was going to die, h_ _e just wished it would happen already. Having been subjected to a cruel and_ ** _unfair_** _death, why wouldn't_ _death just finally consume him_ _? Did he honestly deserve to sit for God knows how long_ _twiddling_ _his thumbs until it got it's sweet shit together and took_ _him? How long had he even been_ _here? It felt like years._ _There_ _was nothing left_ _here for him_ _anyway..._  

 

 _"Angela..."_  

 

 _What a simple word, it was similar to 'angel',_ _it even had 'angel' in it, but it wasn't just an angel that flickered in his blurring mind. It was his angel. His angel that would never be his. The one hand that he could still feel, that felt free, twitched slightly_ _in frustration_ _at the thought and he felt a groan escape his body. Gabriel was never again going to have a chance to_ _touch her_ _, feel her warmth in his fingers_ _... Or his dick._  

 

 _Damn it all to hell if he wasn't ever going to finally bend her thin_ _frame over that table i_ _n_ _med_ _bay and just ravish her like he had wanted to since he first saw her. A_ _smirk passed his battered lips at that image._ _A_ _deeper pain set in, however,_ _upon realizing he would_ _never even_ ** _see_** _her again. Never hav_ _e_ _those soft blue eyes digging into him critically as he explained how he popped yet another stitch—but Jesse deserved the headlock so it was worth it. Never see her face light up when they passed in the hall. Never see her slender fingers tuck some of that platinum hair behind her ear as she read over reports or medical records. Never see her intense joy talking about breakthroughs she was making, even if it bored him to tears should he actually try to follow along_ _._  

 

 _Never would he feel that familiar_ _love, radiating from_ _her in every careful touch, procedure, look, or word_ _she tossed his way_ _._ _Love was something that escaped him for most of his life, but Angela made up for that in spades, and he had deeply reveled in_ _it_ _no matter how little_ _he actually let on_ _. He knew she loved him. It was impossible not to feel that. It just made those parts of him piloting his consciousness terrified._ _The very thing that_ _scared_ _him to his core was now the biggest regret he had, and the final thing he would ever think about_ _. How quaint._  

 

 _With a_ _sputter_ _and a gagged cough, Gabriel took comfort that his end was at long fucking last upon him. While l_ _ungs_ _automatically_ _strained_ _for air, his mind was all too content to_ _stop fighting_ _. He just wanted to die. The already dark prison he was pinned in began to fade, just one word hanging with his being._  

 

 _"Angela."_  

 

 ********  

 

With a scowl permanently etched on his features—and he secretly hoped projecting onto his mask as well—Reaper silently watched his unconscious captive from the shadows of the small room. Every second he watched her, he seethed. What he would have done for this woman at one time, what he would have given. Now, it added gasoline to his blazing rage that this was the woman who caused him to be an abomination. And he still couldn't throw her in the holding cell like he should have. Part of him wanted to strangle her right where she lay slumped on the small cot, be rid of the little thorn in his side—the thorn in his deadened heart—but his spite overrode his anger. Reaper wanted her to look him in the eyes when he took her life. 

 

A small noise escaped her delicate form as Dr. Ziegler began to awaken. Her soft groan of pain was quickly accompanied by shivers, half dried and cold clothes still clinging to her like giant ice packs. Staying quiet in the dark of the room, Reaper simply watched as she carefully pushed herself up and held her head with a no doubt splitting headache ramming through her skull. Angela slowly checked herself over, he could practically see her diagnoses scrolling through her mind. God, he still knew her mannerisms. Apparently deciding warmth was her top priority at the moment, she peeled off her jacket and threw it in his direction, gasping when Reaper caught it.Beginning to scramble back away from him, he was now reveling in the power he had over her. 

 

"Miss me, doc?" Came his jeer while stepping closer to her and watching her nearly fall off her resting place. Angela backed into the furthest corner of the small room like a trapped  feral animal. 

 

"Wh-wha... I..." She stammered and babbled as he encroached on her, "Where am I?" 

 

Holding out his arms, Reaper's demeanor continued, "I must have forgotten my manners. Welcome to Talon." 

 

"Talon?" 

 

"Sorry, we're fresh out of party favors." 

 

Although the only source of light was the dimly lit moon shining through the tiny cellar window behind him, Reaper could still see the way Angela's face went pale. "You took me to your base?" While the woman wasn't usually easily rattled, her voice was completely shaken, as she knew just as well as anyone that she wasn't going to make it out of a Talon base alive—not if she had even the slightest hint of a location. 

 

"More of a bunker, but yes." He swept his coat back and his claws wrapped around the handle of his shotgun. Her eyes instantly locked onto the action. "Call it a temporary setup, once we've concluded business in this part of the world, we'll pack up and be off. But for now, it's home sweet home." With that, Reaper whipped out his massive gun and aimed for her chest, "I have a job for you, doctor. Try not to screw _this one_ up if you can help it." Those words carried an extra bitterness that made Mercy recoil more than anything else. 

 

"You were dead, Reyes..." 

 

Wrong answer. In a flash he was on her, his free hand gripping her hair as he lead her out of the room and hauled his protesting prisoner down the corridor, "I believe you meant to say, you _should have been_ dead. And I would agree. But unfortunately, Doctor Frankenstein found me instead of death." And with a rough shove, Angela fell through some plastic doors into a makeshift hospital room. 

 

Catching herself and carefully standing up, the doctor got her bearings before focusing on the body lying beside her, strapped into a ventilator and EKG machine. Propped on her side, one clawed hand draped off the table, the hacker was still in her gear from their previous mission. Watching Angela's every move, Reaper noticed that same diagnoses face appear before she spun and stood up straight in front of him, finally able to get a real look at her kidnapper. "Why should I help her? And even if I wanted to, I do not have my Caduceus Staff--" 

 

"Are you a doctor or not? Because if not," His shotgun now pressed against her sternum, "It would make my day to rectify the misunderstanding." 

 

Angela swallowed, but he saw her mind quickly processing her situation and suddenly, a bold bravery filled her. Quick as his domination over her had come, Reaper saw it falling through his hands like sand. It was infuriating. "So you needed a doctor close by to save this girl, and you thought to grab me? If that is the case, then you need me, and I would not be so quick to jam a gun into the face of someone you _need_."  

 

His finger tightened on the trigger, just a couple more pounds of pressure and his Christmas present would have come very early this year. However, orders rang in his head. They didn't have a surgeon on base, and more importantly, they didn't have time to fly one in. If Sombra died, so too died a large portion of Talon's control and that was unacceptable. His angel sprang back into his mind and Reaper volunteered Mercy for the job, even " _willing"_ to bring her in personally. Not only would she be more than capable of saving their bitchy hacker, but she was also former Overwatch and completely expendable. He was granted permission. 

 

"If you wish for me to save this girl, I will require a bit more decent treatment, Mr. Reyes." Mercy's tone was stern and calm, as she had always been when the heat was turned up under her. Reaper was all but. His hand clenched against the use of his name in past life, and he forced himself to lower his shotgun. Stringing this woman up later and skinning her was the only thought that kept him going. 

 

"She was shot with some kind of special bullet. We dug it out, but it fried those," He gestured to the armor-like tech on Sombra's back, "And they locked into her. Not only is she critical from the gunshot, but those things might paralyze her if you aren't _actually_ careful. If she dies, you die on the spot." With a sweep of his arm towards the patient, Reaper spun on his heels and started out to the hallway. 

 

"Wait!" Angela's voice cracked slightly. He paused and contemplated shooting her anyways, orders be damned, as he heard a few small footsteps inch towards him, "I am going to need assistance, I cannot preform a surgery by myself." 

 

"I'll send someone in." Came his growl before storming out. 

 

 ********  

 

It was a long surgery. He would know, because while he had stormed out, Reaper was in fact never far. Waiting outside the door the whole time, just in case the angel decided to try something devilish and escape, he listened to her entire medical procedure. Angela had, perhaps reluctantly, served her oath as a doctor and saved Sombra, fixing up her bullet hole and removing her armor. Not only was Sombra going to pull through, but she could thank Mercy for her still working legs as the armor had been skillfully removed without so much as a hiccup. 

 

But sitting there for hours hearing Angela's soft-spoken voice giving instructions forced memories back down his throat that he wasn't ready for, nor did he want. On top of that, he was denied an escape from her as he was ordered to keep the damn thorn around for a while until it was certain Sombra would not suffer any setbacks. If his higher-ups knew anything of Mercy, they knew that their precious little hacker dipshit would be just fine. But no, 'we have to be absolutely certain'. What ate at him more than anything was how he hadn't even put up a fight to his superiors on the matter. 

 

Something within Reaper was snapping just a little more with each passing hour. That accent, her determined, yet cool orders, her soft _sighs_ now and again... All he wanted to do was pump a few rounds of lead into her and make the torture stop, but everything in the world was going to keep that from happening—including his damned self apparently. 

 

Once she had finished and cleaned up, Reaper dragged her back to her room. Though Angela turned to give him a piece of her mind, starting on with something about how he didn't have to manhandle her, Reaper slammed the door and set a quick pace to his steps. He needed to find _something_ he could shoot and fast.  

  

 ********   

  

The next few days made him understand where the phrase 'I would rather have toothpicks shoved under my fingernails' came from. That seemed like child's play compared to what he was enduring. For years Reaper had pined for Angela's head on a spike, an all-consuming vengeance spurring him on, and now that he had her in his grasp, she was just as perfect as she always had been and he could do abso-fucking-lutely nothing to rid himself of her.  

  

Each day Reaper would lead her—roughly—down to tend to Sombra, Angela catching looks from the lackeys and him experiencing some scarred over feeling of protectiveness bubble up in his core. And then he simply _had_  to keep an eye on her. Because, of course, he was responsible for her. He prayed that she would try to escape and give him a reason to blow a hole in her, but she didn't. Although she made her displeasure with him and the situation clear on a regular basis, Mercy never tried to sneak away or slip passed him. Reaper made note of a few of her curious glances headed his way, but that only made his guts wretch.  

  

What did she think she would see? Was she _proud_ of her monster? Did she wonder how well her damn sorcery had worked? Or maybe she still thought she had him wrapped around her little finger. Rage burned him down to his toes at the notion that might not be entirely false. And _fuck_ if it didn't anger him further when she would pull out the tie in her hair and replace her ponytail, scooping her hair up and—this was what he dealt with every minute she was alive.  As he leaned against the wall, outside of the room so he didn't have to watch her bend over while she searched bottom drawers for gauze, every nerve in his body tingled with wrath. 

 

And as the day finally came to a close, he once again caught her arm as she exited and hauled her back to her room. Her protests grated on him, her existence taunted him, her unwavering kindness spat in his face, and yanking her back inside her quarters, he was rapidly breaking. 

 

Angela stumbled, huffing out something in German that he understood but chose not to acknowledge. Instead, he focused his attention on _her_. Facing him and propping her fists on the slope of her hips, Angela raised an eyebrow at him. Each time he tossed her back in her cage, he had immediately bolted. "What did I do today to deserve an extended visit?" She cocked a shapely hip in punctuation, "Or have you finally decided my usefulness has come to an untimely end—" 

 

"Shut up." 

 

Her eyebrows snapped up and she shot him a glare. "I beg your pardon?" She had the nerve. And she still scrunched her nose when she was angry. "You abduct me, force me to do surgery on a Talon agent while dealing with a migraine that you caused, by the way, drag me about, make me play nurse, keep me locked up all day and night and then tell me to be quiet?" 

 

"I didn't tell you to be quiet, I told you to _shut up_." His sharpened tone must have made it fairly clear that he wasn't playing with her, because the piss and vinegar seemed to evaporate and suddenly some kind of hurt crossed her face. The phrase passed through his mind over and over, _shut up, shut up, shut up!_ It wasn't just Angela standing before him, Reaper couldn't stand hearing all the soft little giggles she would have made at his stories while in a check-up, or the way she read his name off of his chart before looking up at him with a bright smile, all his own intrusive thoughts about her—and every last one was bombarding him. He wanted to hurt a lot more than her feelings. 

 

Dropping her arms, Angela shook her head slightly. "Reyes, whatever it is that I have done to deserve this, I am truly sorry." Opening her mouth to continue, it quickly snapped shut when she heard the gritted out growls and pure rage that he was rapidly losing control of. He didn't want her _fucking apologies_. If he had he would have said so. No, it was too late for apologies. No matter how much he had loved her in a past life, that was gone, _gone dammit_ , and he wasn't going to let her slither her way out of what she had coming to her for so long. In the midst of his inner tantrum, smoke was beginning to seep off of him, and once Angela caught an eye full of it in the dull light filtering in, her face turned to pure shock. 

 

There it was. That's what Reaper had waited years to see. Some kind of shock, horror, disgust, _something_ on her face that registered in response to seeing what he had become. 

 

 _Because of her_. 

 

"What happened to you?" She spoke on a breath, taking him in from head to toe. 

 

"You tell me, _doc_." He hissed, slamming the door behind him. 

 

Shaking her head, Angela subconsciously took a step away from him. "No..." Her head shook faster, "No... No, this cannot be from—" He broke. Whatever loose grasp of restraint he had slipped. In a flat second, Reaper had her by the neck and rammed her back into the wall, her feet no longer touching the ground as he held her at eye level and gripped the breath out of her. Angela tried to choke something coherent out while her legs feebly kicked at him, simply sluffing off more smoke 

 

"Yes, it _is_ because of you." His squeeze on her intensified, how he wanted to crush her windpipe and watch her writhe on the floor. "Frankenstein's monster finds his creator in the end, Mercy." But he wanted to look her in the eyes. Not through a mask, no veil between her and what she had done. He wanted her to really see him. 

 

Reaching up with his free hand, Reaper pulled off the mask that kept his horror, his shame concealed. "Take a look at your fine work." He snarled. 

 

Angela's eyes widened further, for a split second it was as if she forgot he was strangling her. He threw her horrified expression a smirk. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He leaned closer, "Or are you just so damn shocked you actually succeeded?" 

 

Tugging frantically at his fingers, Angela finally got half a breath. "Thi—this is n—not what I in—tended for you, R—Reyes." She sputtered. His claws dug into her skin, making her wince and squirm. 

 

 ********  

 

 _In an instant, his body jolted, it was as if a hundred thousand volts of electricity were pulsing through each individual cell. He wasn't aware of anything but the agony, the burning, it was all that existed, and on some inner level he thought he had perhaps entered hell_ _himself_ _... But then through the engulfing agony he heard her._  

 

 _"_ _You a_ _re going to be okay Gabriel, I promise._ _"_  

 

 _The blinding light that his deadened eyes were unable to focus on_ _had_ _died out, but the pain only worsened. All the while he heard her voice speaking to him. Telling him lies like he would be fine._ _Maybe h_ _e couldn't process her words as his body convulsed out from under him, but he_ _remembered them. He remembered everything she said through his fog of limbo, death trying to pull him with it while life sank its fangs into him and insisted he_ _stay._  

 

 _All he wanted was to be gone._  

 

 _His body fell limp as the convulsions finally let him be, and he blacked back out. The only thing he remembered was some warm whisper across his face, before whatever the hell had been released into him bound with his cells. Death began to tear him apart from his very being while life began to put him back together again, and with a gasp of air, he slowly watched himself disappear into smoke... But he was long from the rest that he so badly desired._  

 

 _What had Angela done to him?_  

 

 ********  

 

With a scowl he looked her in those pale blue eyes, so untouched by her own 'science'. "You knew what you were doing." 


	3. Humanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you guys SO much for the great response. I've gotten some of the nicest comments ever, and it seriously stuns me to no end whenever someone actually likes my writing. I take note of every kudos, bookmark, comment, and view. So, thank you again, I'll continue to try and live up to your wonderful praises!
> 
> Another long chapter inbound, sorrynotsorry. It'll give you something to do if you've got like 3 hours to burn lol. I thought I'd mention, there's some German in here that, to the best of my understanding, means "pardon", and there's French (ooooooOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH) too that I'm pretty sure means, "Shut the fuck up" and "bullshit". So there's that. Also, I promise answers will come. Just be patient with me. This is why we swap perspectives.
> 
> I've started up my college classes, which involve a lot of writing, so I'm not sure how quickly I'll update this but I WILL update it. I'll try for once per week I think. I try to heavily edit as I go which is what takes so long lol. But I know some people end up abandoning their work, so I want to make it clear that I might be writing for a year but I WILL finish this dammit. I'm not one to flake on my fics. The Mercykill tag depends on me (not)!
> 
> Enjoy.

**CHAPTER THREE**  

 

What had she done to him? 

 

Having been pinned against the wall, Angela's mind was primarily honed in on his massive fingers digging into her trachea and how to pry them off. It _was_ her primary focus, that is, until Reaper removed his mask and suddenly Angela was face to face with what her desperation caused the man she had loved. Tears welled up in her eyes as she held his gaze. 

 

Portions of skin that had originally been burned, his upper right side mostly, now appeared to be completely cracking away like earth of the desert, breaking open to reveal some other being beneath itself. What was exposed to the world was portions of skull—she could actually see his _orbital bone_ , and part of his _mandible_ —and some secondary flesh instead of muscle, a smoky darkness that clung to him like a cancer. Of course Angela noticed his hair peeking from under his hood, how he had let it grow longer than before on top but kept it shorter than ever on the sides—likely due to the fact that his splitting being spread around his head and even down his neck, so no hair grew there anyways. What struck her, however, wasn't his skin. It wasn't the bone exposed, or the smoke-like entity that was constantly moving, as if trying to spread further over him. It wasn't even his hair, which was _not_ military regulation. 

 

It was his eyes. 

 

That darkness, that evil which seemed to seep from the edges of his broken skin radiated vividly from his eyes like shattering starbursts of soot exploding on his face. Beneath his orbital bone was a pit of shadow, working as eyelids with a sweep of smoke every time Reaper blinked. Even his less afflicted side had not been able to stop it from taking over his eye. Gabriel didn't look human anymore, he looked _demonic_ , and that was what caught Angela's breath—aside from his grip on her neck. Gone were the whites of his eyes, a pitch black settling into his sclera instead, and his once richly brown irises having become a deep amber with flecks of gold catching the dusk light. Some unholy red glow pulsed through them as a smirk passed over his scarred lips. 

 

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" As he leaned in, Angela was given an even closer look into those eyes, "Or are you just so damn shocked you actually succeeded?" 

 

Her breath was slipping away from her, and she yanked with all her might on his hand until she finally loosened his grip for half a second. "Thi—this is n—not what I in—tended for you, R—Reyes." 

 

Reaper snorted, half chuckle and half disgust as his gaze pierced through the doctor. "You knew what you were doing." And he squeezed. 

 

While Angela choked, fighting against the vice on her trachea, her knees wedged up into his midsection as much as they could with how close they were. Then she began to push. Although the thin doctor might not have had a chance of out-muscling a genetically modified abomination such as Reyes, she was certainly able to make him budge for a moment and her form even climbed some up the wall against her pressure. 

 

 With a growl that Angela practically felt as much as heard, Reaper haphazardly chucked his mask somewhere behind him to free his hand, then pried her legs apart to deplete her of leverage. All of her force suddenly had nothing to stop it from swinging forward, and as he came back into her personal space with a punishing grip that had barely even wiggled to start, Mercy found her lower body halfway wrapped around him.  

 

In a quick instant, she caught a breath. His eyes flicked down to her thighs hooked on his hips, his hold on the throat of those leg's owner loosening slightly on its own. The doctor inside Angela noticed Reaper's breathing change, his pupils dilate, then his gaze snapped back up to her face with all traces of amusement dead. Before he could absolutely demolish her windpipe, Angela snuck her fingertips into his grasp. Her wheeze was soft, and tears still clung to her eyelashes, "I am so sorry, Reyes... I loved you t—too mu—" A silent gratefulness came for her buffering fingers when Reaper had enough and seemed determined to break her neck through sheer power alone. 

 

"You call _this_ love!?" He roared, arm shaking slightly from tensing so much, teeth baring at her like a wild animal. The pain, the utter _betrayal_ in his voice shattered her heart. 

 

With a soft gasp, Angela freed one hand and swept his hood off, gently cupping his damaged face. Tears at last escaped her restraint as her touch brushed over his features like it had so long ago when she watched him die. "I—I could not le—let you go." Reaper's expression became something in between rage and confusion. Angela's eyes fluttered, air desperate to enter her but unable. 

 

"G—Gab—riel..." 

 

Sight blurring and on the verge of passing out, she thought she saw something in Reaper's posture change. Perhaps his shoulders dropped, perhaps his gaze. Whatever it was, all at once _she_ was dropped and fell into his massive frame before crumpling down in a heap of coughs and heaves on the floor, oxygen returning to her body. 

 

Reaper stepped back, but kept his cold stare trained on her while she lightly touched her throat and shakily caught her breath. Once she had breathed enough to feel coherent again, Angela slowly looked up at the man looming over her to see him replacing that mask he had tossed aside. With his hood flipped back, and his true form hidden, she could feel him lock eyes with her once more before he spun and opened the door. 

 

"Gabriel!" Her holler halted him. "I... I can understand why you blame me. Why you hate me. But... I..." The next words escaped her. 

 

Within the small space she could faintly hear him suck in a deep breath. "Don't call me that." Reaper's voice was deep, defeated, as he left her alone on the floor in her room. 

 

 ********  

 

Angela was traumatized. She was used to dealing with PTSD, flying into warzones and healing victims had a way of sticking with someone, seeing children sobbing over their dead parents—or seeing parents sobbing over their dead children—had a way of sticking with someone. However, her interaction with Reyes had been one of those special few events in life that crack a person's very foundation. It hadn't just stuck, it ate away at her.  

  

Completely unable to process what had transpired, all of her built up raw emotion began to spill out in agonized sobs which she muffled in the crook of her elbow. This was something you read about, not something that actually happened. Only characters in books or on television had things like this occur, not _her_ , not _Reyes_ , not here in _real life_. Good intentions did not truly pave a pathway to hell, they might not always turn out as hoped, but they did not lead to loved ones becoming mutilated, mass murdering psychopaths, dedicating their lives to hunting down those responsible for what happened to them. Things like this simply didn't really happen.  

  

But it had happened. It _was_ real. Her good intentions set Reyes peddle-to-the-meddle on a road to his own personal hell that he was apparently unable to escape. And now she got to live with that. Hysterical sentences tried to form within Angela's sobs, directed at no one but unable to stay contained behind her broken dams. She'd been so in love with him, knowing that he would never see her as more than some twerpy, naive, overachieving _girl_ and yet falling more for him every day regardless. Gabriel Reyes was her comrade, just like Jack or Ana or Jesse, he was her friend just like Torbjorn or Reinhardt or Winston, but he was the only one she hadn't been able to truly picture missing from her life entirely.  

  

Well, she got her wish.  

  

Every few hours she was hauled off to change Sombra's bandages, and some inner voice was not only mortified at the notion of Reaper coming back and finding her in a sobbing heap—God only knew he would probably kick dirt in her face and laugh because _she deserved to feel this way_ —but that same tiny conscience reminded her every little mistake counted against her life and being exhausted while dealing with a patient wasn't a good idea even in _non-perilous_ conditions. Trying to find a bit of composure, Mercy curled up in the corner behind her cot, giving herself a smaller, safer space and attempted some controlled breaths.  

  

 ********   

  

 _"Hello Dr. Ziegler, welcome to_ _Gibraltar_ _."_   

  

 _Gabriel Reyes seemed to be a man of few words and even fewer smiles, but luckily Angela had more than enough of both. For herself, him, and everyone else on the base. Having only spoken to this agent on a phone and only seeing him in passing on television_ _,_ _getting an_ _eye full of his massive frame_ _in person_ _was somewhat of a surprise to her. She hadn't realized he was_ _so..._ ** _Built_** _._ _Enthusiastically shaking the soldier's hand—dropping some papers in the process—_ _she flashed a trademarked grin and fearlessly looked him_ _straight in his eyes_ _. "_ _Danke_ _! I a_ _m thrilled to be a part of the team." A nod punctuated her statement._   

  

 _There was a slight pause, then his lips thinned slightly as if he was_ _suppressing_ _something._ _Perhaps her_ ** _mission_** _would be to see him smile._ _Pondering that, Angela tilted her head just a bit, trying to read the man who towered over_ _her, but he spun on his heels and started off into the base before she got a chance._ _"C'mon, I'll show you around." He threw over his shoulder._   

  

 _His broad, hard,_ _sculpted_ _shoulder._   

  

 _With tingles shooting down her spine and into her toes, Angela blinked, and then quickly scooping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, hurried after him. The tour was brief and blunt, mostly on their way towards the medical wing of the base_ _. Giving little waves to agents she had previously met, Angela tried her best to keep up with Reyes' rapidly set pace while juggling several folders and a box that she insisted she carry herself._   

  

 _"Excuse me!" She piped,_ _attempt_ _ing to keep her bag on her shoulder and almost barreling into Reyes' back when he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh,_ _verzeihung_ _, would you mind slowing down a bit? I am dressed rather professionally," Angela gestured to her heels, "And that does not mix well with speed, ja?"_   

  

 _Feeling herself swallow under his scrutinizing gaze, Angela met the chill in his_ _dark brown_ _eyes with another warm smile. "Yeah, sure. You might want to invest in speed-appropriate footwear if you're going to be here long." He earned a bubbly laugh from the Swiss doctor._   

  

 _"Oh I assure you! I am quick when the situation calls for it!" Scurrying after him, Angela still had some difficulty keeping up but she figured she would_ _n't harp on the issue_ _, "I simply wanted to look nice today,_ _make a good first impression_ _. I believe getting off on the right foot is important._ _"_   

  

 _"Aww,_ _all that trouble for little old me." Reyes blandly replied, but the effect of his light jeer made his companion's face flush ten shades of red._  

  

 _"Well, I hope I have made a good impression on you but—well, you see I did not know that it would be you specifically—I mean, what I'm trying to say is I wanted to look nice for_ ** _everyone_** _. You_ _..._ _do happen to be part of everyone, though, so I suppose in that way I was trying to look nice for you—I mean make a lasting impression on you—or..."_ _Her blush darkened when he cocked his eyebrow_ _and gave her a sideways glance, "But—um,_ _I suppose I am rambling. My apologies_ _, Mr. Reyes_ _." With a giggle, Angela tried to focus on her footsteps, however_ _a small noise fish hooked her attention._   

  

 _A deep, purring chuckle. And carefully shooting a look up to her guide's face, she_ _found a smirk in place of his usual frown._ _At least she was halfway to her newly realized goal._  

  

 _Opening a door for her, Reyes ushered her into the medical lab. "Here we are. I'll let you get settled." With an expression of gratitude, Angela_ _practically_ _dropped her load of things onto_ _a_ _desk and began to sort it back into order_ _. "And Doc?" Her head snapped up to meet him still poking his head in the room. "I believe in getting off right from the start too, but you don't have to dress up for me to do it_ _."_ _Dr. Ziegler froze for a solid two minutes, even after Reyes_ _shut the door and snickered his way off to his business._   

  

 _That combo of Gabriel's_ _maniacal chuckle_ _,_ _mischievous_ _grin_ _, and dry humor_ _was bound to_ _become a regular staple in Angela's life_ _given how socially clumsy she was_ _._   

  

 _And deep down, she didn't really mind._   

  

 ********   

 

The thumping made her jolt. 

 

"Dr. Ziegler!" 

 

Starting awake, Angela gave her eyes a rub as they were quite sore and puffy from crying. At what point she had finally fallen asleep was fuzzy, but the rude awakening certainly made that part less important. It took a moment to register whose voice assaulted her from behind her door, however, because it wasn't even close to the gravely syrup of Gabriel's. Blinking, another furious knock drummed on her door. "Dr. Ziegler, open up! You need to come with me!" 

 

Mercy was completely confused. But nonetheless she scrambled off her cot and opened the door... Which unlocked from the outside too. Why was this Talon agent knocking when they could have barged right in? Why the change of pace? Where was Reaper? Perhaps that last question was more of an answer than anything. "I hope you were not knocking long." She mumbled, shielding her eyes from the florescent lights strung up in the corridors. Falling asleep with a stuffy nose always gave her a headache, and crying always gave her a stuffy nose. 

 

Whoever she was, the Talon lackey immediately refused to make eye contact with Angela, preferring to focus on the rifle in her hands. Judging by the way her shoulder was wrapped up, she probably couldn't even use all that firepower in her hands without hurting herself. "I, uh, need you to come with me, Doctor. Sombra's bandages need changing." She shifted her feet and gestured with her head for Mercy to walk. Had Angela entered the Twilight Zone? In a daze, she started down the hallway—completely untouched—with a gun _very_ loosely trained on her in case. 

 

"May I ask you a question, Ma'am?" Angela cleared her throat before she spoke, carrying more of her classic, albeit gentle authority and tossed a glace over her shoulder. After nervously surveying her surroundings, the guard shrugged. She probably wasn't supposed to be speaking with prisoners. Oh well. "Where is—what do I hear you all call him—Reaper? Why is _he_ not escorting me?" Her chaperone blanched at her question and meekly fiddled with the safety on her weapon. 

 

"He had some business to attend to, so I'm going to take you to Sombra." God, it sounded like she was reading that off a que card. Or perhaps, repeating what Reaper had ordered of her. 

 

Cocking an eyebrow, Angela decided to prod further, "Oh? So he finally decided he did not have to _personally_ babysit me?" 

 

"He—he had business to attend to. So I'm going to watch you—err, no," A swallow of nervousness came, "Make sure you don't try anything." 

 

"What, you are not allowed to look at me?" Angela threw another quizzical glare back at her and noticed she looked as if she had seen a ghost. Perhaps she had, one that stood well over six feet tall, looked like he could bench press Winston, and seemingly threatened her with her very life—or worse. 

 

"I—I'm not supposed to speak to you, Ma'am. I mean, Doctor. Ah—do you have a preference?" She seemed to cradle her rifle a bit closer, making sure she didn't accidentally point it _right_ at Mercy. 

 

"Doctor is fine—" Angela saw her guard's eyes widen like she had insulted some ancient doctoral ancestor or perhaps Mercy's very existence, and the angel quickly continued, "But I am not picky." 

 

The rest of the walk was silent and her guard stayed outside the makeshift hospital room as Angela went to work. It wasn't as if someone else couldn't do this, but the doctor had quickly figured out that where this hacker girl was concerned, absolutely no chances were taken. _None_. It appeared as though they would rather burn the entire compound to the ground than see her break a freakishly long fingernail. But if that was the case, then it meant Mercy's life really did hang on keeping this Sombra in the best possible shape—given the circumstances. 

 

Keeping the drugged up girl in exactly that shape, drugged and sleeping, and refreshing her IV bags, she then carefully changed out her bandages. Angela's hands worked from pure muscle memory while her mind wandered to her abductor. And possible love of her life. And attempted murderer. Their relationship had always been _complicated_... 

 

A soft smile crept over her face thinking back on how Gabriel used to be. How he was always so tough, so abrasive, but when they were alone he found an ease with her. How he never hollered at her the way he did everyone else. How he was almost always deathly serious, but once in a rare while some mood would come over him and he would seize an opportunity to tease her inappropriately—though nothing like Jesse's blatant flirting, Gabriel was not only much better with words but he was also _subtle_ —knowing exactly how to fluster her. Angela recalled times spent early in the mornings, sitting quietly with him in the common room sipping coffee together, simply enjoying the company. 

 

Those sweet memories were fading fast under the crippling weight of Reaper's pure resentment for her. 

 

Oh _verdammt_ , here came the water works again. Attempting to stifle a sniffle, Angela soon heard her attendants voice from outside. "Umm... Doctor? Is everything okay?" Her timid voice rang. 

 

Angela shook herself a bit and finished up her work on Sombra. "Yes, yes everything is fine. Just give me a moment, I am almost done." With that she paused to gain some composure and leaned back against the desk that barely seemed fit to stand on its own, much less hold anything. Glancing down, Angela noticed the lone drawer on it didn't close all the way, her natural curiosity piquing. Carefully sliding it open, all she found were some blank sheets of paper—if anything had been in there, it was obviously cleared out. However, her brain began to churn and she carefully tucked some of the paper in her waistband before exiting with a soft smile. "Right then, off we go." She earned a nod. 

 

 ********  

 

In the days after their encounter, Angela had not seen Reaper once. Each knock at her door was one of three rotating Talon agents, all three having that same terrified expression when they shied their gazes away from her. None of them would point their guns at her, none would lay a finger on her, one of them refused to speak to her altogether, and the only answer she received to anything was, "I've been assigned to escort you." 

 

Moreover, all of them were women. Surely there was no shortage of men in the compound, Angela had seen them in the halls, so why make it a fair fight if she did try something? And given that all of these women guarding her were _injured_ in some way, if she really wanted to try something it wouldn't even be a challenge. So why had women—much less _these_ women—been exclusively assigned to her? 

 

What Angela filed away for later, letting her disgruntlement simmer on a backburner, was her more pressing suspicion that Reaper was avoiding her. Dragging her to this place, making such a massive fuss over her until he got bored or felt uncomfortable, then continuing to keep her as a pet while his cronies took care of her didn't sit well. The doctor never took being caged lightly. "If I am going to be staying here for much longer, I will require a few changes of clothing. I can only rotate between these and disposable scrubs for so long." She mused to her guard. 

 

Earning silence, Angela paused her steps and turned to the agent behind her. Also like the other two guards, this girl was evidently nursing some kind of an injury—judging by her heftily wrapped foot—in fact, Angela had noticed several other members aside from her escorts in the compound who had taken some sort of affliction too. Apparently, not having a real doctor around was affecting more than just Sombra. 

 

For a moment Mercy was stared at like a deer in the headlights, but quickly the young Talon agent turned her eyes away. Angela tilted her head. "How come none of you speak to me? I might be your prisoner, but I am still a person, and I have been nothing but cooperative. Am I not allowed a little conversation to keep my sanity?" Her huff was met with pure terror. "At least tell me why you all seem so afraid of me." Holding out her arms in exasperation, Angela spun and continued to trek down to Sombra in complete frustration. 

 

"We've..." Came the stammer, "We've been given very specific orders, Doctor. That's all. Just... _Very_ specific orders." 

 

Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Angela continued her pace. "Well if you all must watch me, I would also insist you allow me to help you with your wounds. Like _your_ bad ankle—" A tiny sound emitted behind her and Angela threw a smile over her shoulder, "Do not think it escaped my notice, dear." Then she shrugged, "It drives me insane to see so many poorly cared for people all in one place." 

 

With a rough swallow, the girl moved in a bit closer to Mercy so as not to be heard by anyone. "But you're _Overwatch_..." 

 

"I was, yes." 

 

"So... Why do you want to help?" 

 

Angela shrugged. "I am a doctor first and foremost. Even if that means healing a Talon agent, I will not let anyone suffer unnecessarily. Besides, teaching you, for example, some physical therapy would give me something to do!" With a soft giggle, she stepped into her temporary doctor's office to preform her duties. 

 

Going about her mundane tasks on the sleeping hacker, Angela was almost finished when she heard a throat clear behind her and turned to see her guard standing there. "What—ah... What can you do for my foot?" She inquired timidly, still making sure no one was watching behind her. 

 

Mercy smiled and pulled over the only chair in the room for her new patient. "Let me take a look at it and see." 

 

 ********  

 

It took a good deal of time, but Angela finally finished teaching the Talon member how to properly care for and rehabilitate her ankle. It appeared a stray bullet had found her, and although it missed some important parts, a great deal of damage had already been done and not correctly taken care of from the start. Having set her on a good path, Angela began to rewrap the foot in question—the right way. 

 

"Um... Thanks. It feels better already." The girl spoke softly, but it brought a smile to Mercy's face. 

 

"Just doing my job." 

 

"Listen, you—uh... You keep asking a lot of questions about him," Earning a questioning look from Angela, the guard swallowed roughly and leaned a little closer, "You know. About _Reaper_." She practically mouthed his name. "As, I dunno, payment for this, I could try to answer some things you wanna know..."  

 

Angela's shoulders sagged a bit. "Yes I have been asking about him a bit I suppose. That is an incredibly generous offer, but you truly do not have to repay me for this. Besides, I would not want you to jeopardize yourself. I suspect you would be in enough trouble if anyone knew I was assisting you." 

 

The girl shook her head. "Oh I would be dead, but I'm also not one to let someone else take care of me without repaying them. So if you want to know something, I'll tell you as best I can." Then she pointed an accusing finger in Angela's face, "But just this once, you hear?" 

 

Chuckling slightly, Angela nodded and then made sure herself that no one else—aside from a very much asleep Sombra—was around. "Alright, if you insist. Why were you three assigned to me?" 

 

She earned a shrug, "Don't much know why he chose us specifically, but I can tell you that a couple guys volunteered and about lost their dicks."  

 

Interesting. "Why do you all act so afraid?" 

 

The girl's demeanor changed a bit, that familiar fear shadowing her face, "See, Reaper was very specific about what we were allowed to say and do. B—basically as long as you didn't take off running or assault someone, we were to take absolutely no action against you. Something about how you're the only real care Sombra has or some shit like that, I dunno. He was in a real pissy mood, like, _real_ pissy. We weren't allowed to touch you, speak to you, or so much as look at you or else... Erm—He said we'd be strung up with each others' intestines I think, I don't quite remember, I was pretty much just trying not to have a panic attack. I mean, I've never _seen_ him actually carry out a threat, but I also haven't seen much of the people who cross him either..." 

 

No wonder they were all so scared of her. Quietly watching her hands work as she listened, Angela contemplated the information coming in. Why would Reyes be so protective over someone he had tried to literally strangle to death a week ago? Moreover, if he was so protective, why didn't he continue watching her himself? "Is Gab—Reaper out on a mission?" She prodded casually. 

 

"Uh—Not to my knowledge. I've seen him a few times recently, and he always checks to make sure I didn't fuck up and do something I shouldn't have. I'm surprised you haven't heard him in the hall." Another dry swallow followed. "You know, there's a rumor that the guy isn't even human." 

 

"He is definitely human." It came under her breath, almost on a whisper, but Angela couldn't stop from attesting to that fact. She had seen the _humanity_ of Gabriel Reyes, back when he had even tried to conceal it in Overwatch. Too many times had she witnessed Gabriel wince because his coffee was too hot and puff a few breaths over his mug to cool it, contain laughter at one of Jesse's lame jokes and fake rubbing his chin to hide it, give Fareeha's hair a tussle as he strolled by while pretending not to notice the girl's awe of him. Jump in front of bullets to save a civilian. Show up at Angela's office late at night in pain because a former wound was giving him trouble, but he hadn't asked her sooner so no one but her would see him vulnerable, broken. Regardless of whatever monster he had evolved into, Angela realized that she had trouble believing Gabriel was completely gone. If nothing else, the great lengths he had apparently taken for Angela, whatever the reasons, proved that. 

 

"Hmm? Did you say something?" 

 

Giving herself a mental shake, Angela stood up. "Good as new. Now, I should probably be getting back to my room, right?" Standing on her newly wrapped ankle, the guard checked her watch, then gave a hurried nod and escorted Mercy back. 

 

 ********  

 

Another week and a half went by, and slowly more Talon agents began to sneak by when Angela was in their makeshift clinic, stating that they heard she might have helped someone, and wondered if she would help more. Since it gave her something to do, and she'd always had a hard time turning away someone in pain, Angela decided she might as well bring some compassion into the soulless compound. 

 

Finally, she had some time to herself in her own room... What a strange thought. With a soft chuckle, Angela continued to run statistics on the paper she had swiped. Since she saw Reyes' face, she had been trying to figure out what went wrong. Having his file memorized, she could have recited it by heart— _of course_ , she knew all the files on the Overwatch agents—and she also knew every last decimal point related to her staff, so she started crunching numbers. 

 

That's when she felt a familiar presence in her room. A scent like fire filled the space as Angela turned to see black smoke pouring in from under her door. Carefully and subtly sliding her papers under a sorry excuse for a blanket she was given, she wondered what was happening as his mist crept in completely. Standing, Angela was soon face to face with Reaper, his body materializing out of the smog. Her heart raced, partially in fear and partially just being in his presence, but she boldly looked him right in the face. For a few moments, he studied her from behind his mask, before stepping closer—and turning his back to her. 

 

"Stay behind me." Reaper growled as he swept his coat away and gripped one shotgun. 

 

Every ounce of confusion evaporated when her door broke open, a horrible noise blasting through the small space as it was kicked in. "Step aside, Reaper." A French accent spilled into the air, one that sounded vaguely familiar.  

 

"Now Widow, I think you're reacting a little strong." Reaper sounded like he was mocking her. Leaning slightly to the side to get a look, Angela somewhat recognized the vicious woman standing in her doorway, pointing her gun at Reaper's chest—at Mercy's head. 

 

"I said move aside." She hissed, shooting a glare to the angel peering out from behind her comrade's frame. "I will do what _you_ should have done long ago." 

 

Reaper's grip on his weapon tightened, he was ready to draw, and Angela felt his hand nudge her back behind him a bit further—taking away Widow's shot at her head. "I'm under orders to keep her here, and to keep her safe. We wouldn't want something bad to happen to Somb—" 

 

"That _thing_ should never have been brought here to start!" Amelie snapped, her headgear locking into place so she could see Angela's body through his. She wasn't about to miss. 

 

"If you were out of the loop, that's your own fault. But I will gladly throw you under the bus and let you flounder while trying to explain why you blatantly disobeyed your superiors and splattered her all over the walls." That made the woman's rifle lower a bit, and Reaper knew he had won this little chess match. "Do you really think I would keep an Overwatch ally without specific instruction?" 

 

A bitter laugh came from Widowmaker. " _Ta_ _gueule_ , Reaper. We both know that's a load of _des_ _conneries_." 

 

"If you want me to keep repeating myself I will, but I believe this discussion is done. You are not to touch Dr. Ziegler. Period. Do we have an understanding, Widow?" His words had a bit more bite, it appeared he was finished indulging her anger and at last the assassin disengaged. 

 

Raising her weapon to prop on her shoulder, Widowmaker's goggles opened from her face and she once again shot a look of pure disgust, but this one was directed at Reaper. "As soon as you can dispose of _it_ , _do_. Because if you don't, _I will_." And with that, she stormed off. 

 

A soft sigh exited Reaper's body and Angela watched his shoulders relax. She hadn't realized it during such a heated confrontation, but at some point she had lightly grabbed hold of his coat and still clung to it even after Amelie was gone. Turning toward her once more, Angela was positive Reyes arched an eyebrow at her hand gripping him judging by the way he looked at the offending action. Snapping her digits away, Angela took a tiny step back. "I—um... What was—" 

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His growl was deep, but soft-spoken as if he didn't want anyone passing by her broken door to hear. 

 

"What do you mean?" Angela was also positive she just earned an eyeroll, judging by his body language. Maybe he had seen her hide her papers. Maybe he knew Sombra had woken up and started making small talk with her. Maybe— 

 

"You're playing doctor for Talon now?" Reaper huffed when Angela's eyes widened, "What, did you think no one would notice? Did you think _I_ wouldn't notice?" 

 

That last question was what struck Angela. "Is that not why you _kidnapped_ me? And do not flatter yourself, I did not even know you were here, much less paying attention to my actions." 

 

Standing up a bit straighter, Reaper hissed, "Of course I'm paying attention." Then shook his head and tugged his coat back over his shotgun. "If you intend on staying alive much longer than a day, you should stop giving Widow reasons to kill you." 

 

"So do I have any hope of being released or not?" That made the man in front of her go silent. "Because here I am _'playing doctor'_ for Talon, because I have to if I want to live, yet I seem to have no hope of actually making it out alive because when I actually do help people I'm risking my life. So you tell me, do I continue to heal while I still can, or do I stop altogether and just accept the bullet with my name on it?" And she crossed her arms in defiance. 

 

Her sapphire gaze dug into him, but Reaper simply stood there for what felt like forever. Angela would have swore that he moved just a bit closer to her before removing himself from her destroyed room completely. "I'll get someone to fix this." He tossed back in reference to her door as he left. 

 

Oh no he didn't. Angela bolted out after him and threw herself in his way in the hall. "No! I want some answers, Reyes!" And Heaven help her if he was in a less than stellar mood. "What is so appalling about me treating your wounded? Is that not good for you?" 

 

Crossing his own arms, his weight shifted to one side. "You don't take to this prisoner thing very well, do you?" Well, so far she wasn't pinned against a wall. That was a good sign. 

 

"Especially when my captor decides he has better things to do." 

 

"I'm flattered that you've missed me so much, but I've been busy running interference for your ass." His tone was familiar, it was that teasing she had been flustered by so many times. "We don't usually socialize with our prisoners, the few we take. Especially not Overwatch. You tending to the garbage around here puts our security at risk. They might begin to sympathize. Hence the reason I just put myself down range of our most lethal assassin _for you_." 

 

Angela's eyes narrowed, "Oh thank you, my knight in shining armor." Her words dripped in sarcasm, but in truth, it was possibly the first straight answer she had gotten from him. And he did legitimately just use his own body as a shield. 

 

Reaper gave her a small huff in return and pushed past her as he continued his path down the hall. "Well, you're in luck, because if Widow is going to be on your case, you're gonna be seeing a lot more of me anyway." 

 

The doctor blinked and scurried after him against her better judgement.


	4. Quirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure I will be tweeking the hell outta this chapter later, but I wanted to get it out there since I've taken so long lol. I hope it's semi-decent for now, I'll give notifications if I make any major adjustments. Language fun facts: the French means "goodbye", and "mija" is kind of like 'sweetheart' or some affectionate thing like that in Spanish (and that one I actually knew already HA!). I don't think there's anything else...
> 
> Thanks again for the kind comments and kudos, too! :)

**CHAPTER FOUR**  

 

He was surrounded by animals, _fucking animals_. If there was a collection of ten brain cells between the lot of them... 

 

Of course, who was truly the idiot here? 

 

Reaper could have ended all this angst weeks ago, his claws were wrapped tight around her swan-like neck, all he had to do was wretch her a little longer. Hell, all he really had to do was pump one hellfire round into her and presto, his problems were solved. It wasn't as if he had a problem with finishing someone off. Murder fueled his existence, he thrived on it, loved it, his job was literally to kill people. There was absolutely no good, honest reason not to kill Mercy... Except that he just couldn't do it. For possibly the first time in his adult life—and certainly in his life as a cloud monster—Reaper couldn't bring himself to finish the job. 

 

Whatever _the fuck_ kind of magic was in Angela's fingertips had always been there, but Reaper truly thought it wouldn't work on him anymore. Hate, hate was what he felt for her now right? Hate. However, all it took was one little brush of her hand and that raging fire in his very soul was suddenly quelled—at least for a while. For so long he had seethed over a core concept that Mercy warped him on purpose, or didn't even really care what happened to him and just wanted to test her hand at playing witchdoctor. 

 

One touch and some tears. That was enough for Reaper to turn in his man-card and completely wimp out on all his convictions. 

 

It went without saying that he couldn't see her again, God only knew how much more contact with her—figuratively or literally—would screw him over. But the thought of these _fucking animals_ around the angel made his icy blood boil. The way they looked at her, whispered about her, loomed around her was not only impure, but it made some deeper intuition within Reyes scream. Angela wasn't safe and that was apparently a major problem for him. These Talon agents being stationed here for too long, with too few females—much less ones that looked like a damn _goddess_ —and being **_fucking animals_** , was a puddle of gasoline he wasn't about to throw a match on. 

 

No one got to screw with Mercy but _him_. 

 

Women only around Angela, and only ones Angela could absolutely defend herself against. He hand picked them, and those _fucking animals_ were so disappointed. Good. No harm would come to her under any circumstances. Reaper would figure out what to do with the doctor on his own time, work up the courage to kill her or... do something about her. Little did he know that doctor would actually start curing stray agents on base. 

 

Sure, he might have milled around— _in the form of smoke_ —outside of— _or_ _in_ —the medical room to check on Mercy now and again— _every other day_ —but Reaper hadn't expected to actually find her fixing up his lackeys. A plan to drop by and have a chat with her about such activity was solidifying in Reyes' mind... That's when the trouble really struck. 

 

Widowmaker had just returned from a mission and came to check on Sombra. Reaper was receiving her mission briefing and was filling her in on most of the current situation, minus one important detail, when they found the hacker awake and sipping on a soda. "'Eyyy, Gabe, thanks for grabbing Ange. You might not want to _literally_ grab her next time, though, you left some nasty ass bruises." 

 

Widow stiffened and shot a look up at him, the wheels in her mind beginning to churn furiously. "Who?" 

 

Sombra flicked through some news feeds on the panels she controlled, and blandly piped in with a slight slur from her pain medication, "Angela Ziegler, alias Mercy. Great girl, I'm pretty sure she's the nicest person ever. It's almost disgusting. You know she even helps the other agents with their problems too? I could use a friend like Angie. Gabe, you shouldn't keep her locked up all the time, that's no way to treat a lady." She shook a finger at him, but before she could even finish her sentence, Widow had launched down the hallway and Reaper took off after her. 

 

He had the advantage of knowing which room Angela was stashed away in, so Reyes was able to slip by the steaming assassin when she had an agent's arm nearly popped out of the socket to attain that information. Thankfully Angela hadn't been tending to Sombra when they walked in or he might not have been able to stop the inevitable bullet. Widow had the fastest reflexes he knew—aside from his own, that is—and it was a miracle he got to Angela first anyway. 

 

There sat the angel, doodling around on paper she wasn't supposed to have, wearing something she hadn't originally shown up in because apparently she bitched about that, and looking infuriatingly perfect for a woman who had very few basic necessities. Angela's lips moved silently as she wrote, just like they always did, some flyaway hairs falling out of her ponytail, her brand-spankin'-new sweat pants riding down a bit—But he didn't have time to ogle her, right? There was a purpose to invading her room. And as he solidified his form to stand before her—that forced bravery on her face regardless that he could practically feel her racing pulse—Reaper reminded himself of that. 

 

As Widow became more volatile, Reyes had nudged Angela back behind himself because he knew all too well that even peeking around a corner had cost many victims their heads when Amelie was involved. Besides, both agents knew that he would just heal eventually if she chose to shoot through him, the only drawback would be how long he'd be incapacitated. Angela's hands gripped him when she heard Widow's headgear snap into place, and the doctor practically pressed herself against him. 

 

A shot of heat drilled its way down his spine and pooled in his stomach. Had he actually gotten _excited_ by her after all this time? After everything she'd put him through? Reaper was definitely the biggest idiot on base. 

 

Maybe Angela was trying to join his ranks in that department, as she then marched after him like she obtained some righteous purpose and intended for him to hear every word of it. God, had he actually missed that on some level? 

 

She followed him through the halls like a puppy, yapping on about a bunch of crap he didn't care for, how rude he and everyone else had been, a German tirade that may or may not have revolved around the food, something to do with feeling unsafe over Widow, for example, when she was... sleeping. 

 

Shit. 

 

Reaper's steps froze as did his thoughts. For now he didn't think that would be a problem, but how much longer Widow would follow his half-true orders was questionable. And he couldn't keep an eye on her day and night. God, keeping his little pet was proving to be a lot more trouble than she was worth. 

 

Turning, Reyes gripped Angela's shoulder's while lowering himself slightly to roughly eye level with her, much as one would with a child. "If you insist on following me around all day, pestering me with things I have no intention of listening to or answering, would you at least walk where I can keep an eye on you?" His last words were delivered on an exasperated sigh. Being this up close and personal, Reaper got to watch each of Angela's quirks spill out silently, and it was just as fascinating as ever. 

 

First, Angela blinked a few times, her gaze scrolling him quizzically as if she might find his thoughts hidden on his person. Then some emotion zipped through her face and she swallowed, her tongue peering out from between her soft, pink lips to wet them a bit. Finally the angel tamed her features into a cool look of dignity, as if she was fooling anyone that she wasn't complete static on the inside. Nothing changed when it came to Angela, that was something Reyes picked up on. Giving a tilt of her head, she acknowledged what he said, but seemed equally determined to rake him over her coals of questions. 

 

"Good." Releasing her and standing back to his full height, Reaper turned and resumed his strides. Dr. Ziegler fell in step beside him with her arms crossed defensively. Although his mind was on several different things, Reyes kept a watch on his abductee from the corner of his eye. Constantly chanting internally how much he hated her, as he had for weeks. Angela was carefully crafting her next question, he could just tell. How had he managed to store all this shit about her in his mind? 

 

"So," There it was, "About the food situation..." 

 

God help whoever he found first to fix her door. They were in for a rude surprise of being his temper's target. 

 

********  

 

Angela followed Reaper around all day. Thing was, Reaper hadn't even tried to order her back to her room. True, she was only venting weeks of pent up emotions and problems on him, and yes, he did in fact have business outside the compound to attend to. But Reyes told himself that Angela would be out of the way of anyone—else—who wanted to harm her if she just kept pestering him. No confined, yet uncontrolled space where she could be easily attacked. 

 

So, Reaper allowed her to tail him as he checked in with some agents to see if their missions were complete, followed up on that hole he had shot through a wall—and into someone—from the last mission that had been failed, and minorly assaulted whomever hadn't patched the hole yet. Naturally, that poor agent fixing Angela's door was ordered to do so as a higher priority, but that was no excuse for leaving a damn hole in the wall. _Fucking. A_ _nimals._  

 

Finally, Reaper guided Angela to Sombra for the daily check-up. Things were getting slower for Mercy in regards to her primary patient, since Sombra was now awake and talking. But, that didn't stop the crew from bringing Angela down almost as frequently as before to help someone else who had been wounded—likely by Reaper in some cases. 

 

Leaning against a wall beside the plastic doors—inside the room for a change—Reaper patiently waited for Angela to finish her work. Unfortunately, Sombra seemed intent on keeping him from being able to stash the medic back where she came from in her repaired dungeon. 

 

"Angie, don't you dye your hair?" Her Hispanic accent rang. 

 

Angela giggled softly, "No, no. I am aware it is quite light, but this is my natural color." 

 

Sombra made an exaggerated snort, "You liar. No one is that light!" 

 

"I swear! Besides, I would never find time to maintain it." 

 

Tapping her chin thoughtfully, Sombra shrugged a bit and regretted the action which tugged at her wounds. "I suppose you've got a point there." 

 

Whatever fresh hell Reaper had entered, he wasn't sure what he had done to deserve. But listening to the two women discuss whether Mercy was a natural blond, among many other things, was most definitely something not even Dante had endured. 

 

"Oh, how is your neck looking today, _mija_?" Sombra chirped, sipping on her beverage through a bendy straw. 

 

Angela stiffened a bit, throwing a subtle sideways glace towards Reyes. While his posture didn't flinch, Reaper's interest was stirred. Sombra had mentioned bruises on Angela before, but he hadn't thought much of it. With a clear of her throat, Mercy fiddled with the syringe in her hands and stuck a small bottle of medicine, "It is coming along just fine, thank you." She replied nonchalantly. 

 

Reaper didn't turn his head to look at her, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. That bratty hacker was not so discreet, eying Angela's throat as her doctor pumped whatever medication she had on hand into the IV. "Getting better every day." Sombra agreed, nestling herself into the bed with a snide grin on her face, "I always had a feeling Gabe liked it rough, but _damn_." 

 

Reyes would have swore he heard screeching tires given how both he and Angela froze. Whipping his head up, he shot a vicious glare Sombra's way, one she received often and one she didn't need to see beneath his mask to understand. In turn, Sombra held up her hands defensively, rambling on about how he needed to take a joke, and asking Angela if he always had a stick up his ass. She earned a deer in the headlights stare from Mercy and some soft sputtering. With a growl, Reaper at last threw a look Angela's way, "Are you about done here?" 

 

"Aww, no fair! I don't have anyone else fun to keep me company!" The hacker piped, although she was quickly looking more and more drowsy with her pain medicine hitting her system. 

 

Angela nodded and finished cleaning up. Reaper let her outside the room before turning back to Talon's favorite bitch, "You and I are going to have a talk later." He hissed, earning a sarcastic cheer as he swept out after Angela. 

 

For the first time all day, their walk was a quiet one. While Angela carried her usual elegance throughout her body language, it was clear she was quite discomposed. Perhaps she was concerned Reaper might flip out—given that she evidentially explained her neck—over Sombra's comments, perhaps she was uncomfortable having her injury brought up out loud in front of the one who choked her, or perhaps she just didn't care for that joke in one way or another. Whatever the case, Reyes didn't mind not having to acknowledge their situation. 

 

His eyes, partnering with his curiosity, had some plans of their own. 

 

Casually stealing a glance, Reaper saw faint remnants of his work. Angela's delicate neck was still lightly blotched with bruises, even after how much time had passed. Quickly averting his gaze, Reaper steeled himself against throbs of whatever guilty emotion threatened to clench his guts. Upon further processing, however, he snuck another look and noticed faded marks where her milky skin had been punctured, then healed. A deep rage struck him like lightning for a split second, the thought of someone doing this—but then recognition of those scars as claw marks from his own hand hit. 

 

A sickening feeling of feeling sick swallowed him. 

 

Why did he give a shit? _Reaper hated her_. Remember? It didn't nauseate him to think that he had harmed Angela, beautiful, smart, perfect Angela, because he wanted her _dead_ _,_ right? But if that had actually been true, Reyes wouldn't have been toiling day and night over her, in his efforts and his mind. Toil he did, and now pangs from a breed of shame thrummed in every nerve ending each second he mulled over truly damaging her. It made any thought of killing her slip further away. 

 

Letting Angela back in her quarters, Reaper was taken off guard when she paused in the doorway, uncomfortably close. "The assassin you stopped," She paused, her gaze shifting away momentarily before fixing back on his mask, "Was that Amelie Lacroix?" 

 

"Yes." Whatever blabber bug Sombra carried with her had apparently bitten him. Angela was always easy to talk to, though, and the softened expression in her eyes—which Reaper had a very clear view of, being within her personal bubble—made ignoring her difficult. 

 

"But... I thought she was dead?" Mercy's expression reflected her inner need to discover the unknown. 

 

Reaper couldn't hold back a chuckle, "Seems to be a lot of that going around." And with that, he gestured for her to step into her room. Snatching one last glance of her, Reaper shut the door and stormed off to have a much needed shouting match with Sombra. 

 

********  

 

_Angela_ _stifled a_ _giggle_ _as she matched Gabriel's steps up the corridor,_ _attempting to hide her laughs_ _and growing blush_ _from a passing agent. Gabriel gave_ _a few clicks of his tongue_ _once they were isolated again_ _. "Doc, please, this is serious business. Now I'll ask you again, were you or were you not checking out_ _Torb's_ _ass?"_ _Earning_ _another burst of giggles_ _from Angela,_ _he found it difficult to keep a smile from his own face._  

 

_"You know very well I was not!" Angela managed between breaths. "I told you, I was making sure I did not drop my pen!"_  

 

_"_ _Mmhm_ _, just can't keep your eyes to your self._ _Sorry to tell_ _ya_ _Doc_ _,_ _he's taken_ _." Gabriel received_ _a light swat on the arm which only fed his_ _grin_ _._  

 

_"_ ** _Reyes_** _." Angela scolded half-heartedly, her azure eyes beaming up at him with humor and some deeper affection Gabriel didn't want to put words to._  

 

_God, that look in her eyes turned his innards to pudding. The doctor was ten year_ _s younger than him, yet a depth existed within her that he hadn't experienced with people_ _triple_ _his age. She had such kindness, generosity, and empathy that touched everyone around her with little more than a gaze. When she looked at Gabriel, however,_ _a difference existed_ _. Beyond her gentle spirit shining though,_ _was_ _some untapped pool of passion that she only gave him glimpses into. And it took his breath away._  

 

_He gave a small shrug and mouthed, "You did it." As he opened a door to their on-base conference room for her. Angela tried to tame her smile with a small shake of her head before stepping in and greeting_ _the other_ _Overwatch_ _agents along with_ _their guests_ _..._  

 

********  

 

Squatting on the edge of a roof with his forearms resting on his knees, Reaper felt a frigid night breeze sweep through his coat. More and more in his moments alone, memories of Angela were creeping back. Things he had suppressed for years, forced out of his mind on purpose, and methodically numbed himself to, all seeping back in like a leaky roof. One way or another, they found some hairline crack into his conscience. 

 

"Reaper." Came Amelie's hiss. He'd barely noticed her step up behind him, but given that he was waiting for her it wasn't exactly a surprise. "Before we get started, I need to know what's going on in your head." 

 

Releasing a puff of air he could just barely see in the chill, Reaper unfolded to his full height and faced her. "I'm thinking I'd like to get this mission over with." He crossed his arms and shrugged. 

 

"Don't play coy." Widow stepped closer, a sneer permanently etched into her features. 

 

Reaper smirked, "Oh, we're still on _that_. My mistake, I thought you grew up." He held up his hands to signal a sarcastic apology, then reassumed his usual demeanor. "So what would you like to know? Why I was ordered to save arguably our most important asset, why I chose the world's best doctor to do it, or why—" 

 

"Don't pretend like I don't know why you chose Ziegler." Amelie's growl was dark, and filled with a knowledge that made Reaper tense. "You think I'm that blind?" 

 

Reyes gave a roll to his shoulders, his stance suddenly becoming increasingly threatening. "And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

 

"Please," Widow laughed bitterly, "It means I know your intentions, and they were not simply 'saving Sombra'. Nothing escapes my sight, and I can see right through you." 

 

Reaper prickled further. "Do tell me what my intentions were, then." 

 

"You think I've forgotten? I remember the way you looked at that doctor, Reaper." His stomach sank at her words, "It was the way Gerard looked at me. It's what makes men vulnerable. _Weak_." 

 

"Are you saying I'm compromised?" 

 

" _Are_ you?" 

 

That was a question he didn't know if he could answer for himself, much less one he was willing to answer for Widowmaker. A breath of silence passed between them before Reaper turned away from her and focused on the world below. "Don't question me like this again, Widow." 

 

She paused, then Widowmaker lowered her headgear and stepped up beside him to scope out their target. "Don't give me reason to." 

 

**** 

 

_"Mr. Lacroix, Mrs. Lacroix,_ _" Angela spoke sweetly as she shook hands with each in turn,_ _"I am Dr. Angela Ziegler. It_ _is a pleasure to make your_ _acquaintances_ _._ _"_  

 

_With a nod, Gerard smiled to Angela while slipping his arm around his wife. "We're looking forward to working with you_ _."_  

 

_Strolling in_ _and waiting for his obligation to say hello, Gabriel watched their interaction from a good enough distance that he didn't get sucked into some four-way discussion, but still close enough to hear. Tossing a look Angela's way, he observed how pristine she_ _was_ _in her skirt, flats—for speedy walking, button up blouse, and paper white lab coat. Outwardly she_ _appeared_ _ever_ _the professional, but her bubbly personality gave an_ _immediate sense of familiarity to the room._  

 

_Catching himself staring—thank God—before Jack did, Gabriel tucked his thumbs in his pockets and milled about while everyone started taking their seats_ _. Jack slapped his shoulder and looked positively giddy to begin, and Ana sipped on a cup of tea_ _as_ _her sharp gaze analyzed_ _the_ _many_ _prominent figures. He tried not to make_ _eye contact_ _with anyone else, as he felt socially exhausted already._ _Reyes_ _did_ _mak_ _e sure to greet the Lacroix's in advance, once Angela had gotten her fill of conversation, so he wouldn't have any reasons tying him down for longer than necessary once things were settled._  

 

_Perhaps he would try to spring the doctor from post-meeting social norms as well. When called to begin proceedings, Gabriel started towards his own seat, tugging out Angela's_ _for her_ _along the way._ _The soft smile he received was thanks enough from her._  

 

_Gabriel was proper, polite, and engaged. He made sure to provide information about Talon where he could, while acknowledging new information or resources where provided by Gerard. All the while, Gabriel's attention was split more than usual_ _. B_ _ecause_ _five chairs away_ _the vexing_ _angel_ _was displaying a new subconscious habit and it sent pulses of heat_ _radiating through him_ _._  

 

_Taking notes on a small notepad, Angela's focus was intently trained on every piece of new data she could obtain_ _and that was perfectly normal_ _. Her newly displayed quirk_ _, however,_ _was her teeth lightly snagging her lower lip. A seemingly simple, even overlooked action, but from where Gabriel sat it happened to be one of the most alluring things he'd_ _witnessed_ _. Angela's teeth would release their prisoner when she spoke, and for a few minutes she would_ _remain with some normal, lovely expression on her face. But as soon as conversations picked up, got fascinating to her, those teeth would dig back into her lip._ _Images_ _sprang to mind, of Angela biting her lip in that same manner as she tried to keep from moaning, screaming his name_ _—_  

 

_Gabriel continuously rattled his brain back into soldier mode. He was required to pay attention, and he_ ** _needed_** _to know what was being_ _said_ _. Besides, it wasn't like him to think of colleagues in such unprofessional ways. What was he always harping about to recruits? Work relationships should stay just that... And in truth,_ _Angela deserved much better than a battered old war dog like himself anyway. T_ _herein lied the bedrock of his reservation._  

 

_Shit, he hadn't heard anything in the last three minutes_ _and he was pretty sure Amelie Lacroix was onto that fact_ _..._  

 

_At last, the meeting concluded and naturally, Jack_ _tried to_ _rope_ _Gabriel into some chatter before he could bolt. It didn't take long for Gabriel to subtly fade himself out_ _and slip away through the other agents_ _,_ _one mention of the last battle and Jack_ _launched into a tirade about their efforts_ _._ _Dodging other possible conversations, Reyes was even willing to pass up jumping into a discussion with Angela to escape a crowd._ _The_ _doors were in_ _sight, he was_ _almos_ _t there—and then an accent_ _la_ _den_ _voice piped his name. Gabriel cringed and turned._  

 

_"Commander, I would just like to reiterate that I believe our cause is in very capable hands." Amelie smiled, earning a forced reciprocation of the action. "We are both looking very forward to a partnership."_  

 

_Gabriel dipped his head in acknowledgement, "Well I'm glad, because I think I speak for all of_ _Overwatch_ _when I say that we're looking forward to this too, Ma'am._ _" His foot inched itself into a slightly wider stance, but more importantly, squirmed towards freedom just a few strides away. Amelie was just about to break into a new sentence when her eyes shifted and Gabriel felt a soft tap on his back._  

 

_"Commander Reyes?" Angela. "I_ _a_ _m terribly sorry to interrupt, but I believe I have lost my lab key. Would you_ _happen to know where it is, or_ _possibly be able to issue me a new one?" The angel inquired with a look of apologetic concern._  

 

_It took a few seconds to process Angela's words before Gabriel's expression softened and he understood. She was rescuing him. "_ _Ah_ _, yeah. Sure. I_ _t'll take a few minutes but I can get you one right now._ _I_ _mean, if Mrs. Lacroix doesn't mind_ _, that is_ _." He threw a courteous glance to Amelie, who gave a light wave of her hand._  

 

_"But of course. I believe we're wrapping up here anyways." She replied with a smile, "I hope you recover your key card, Doctor."_  

 

_Angela giggled, like music, "If only_ _my scatterbrain would stop misplacing it to begin with_ _." Exchanging_ _pleasantries_ _, Angela started towards the doors._  

 

_"Au revoir, Commander Reyes. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other." Earning a nod, Amelie released her prey, watching after the pair curiously._  

 

_Gabriel trotted up to Angela with a warm smile,_ _and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks for that." He murmured as soon as they were out of ear shot._  

 

_"I know how you feel about forced social interaction." Angela replied in a matching tone of voice, "But in truth, I really did lose my key."_  

 

_Gabriel's laughter couldn't be contained._  

 

********  

 

His hellfire steamed in the cold, still smoking from use. Target eliminated, mission complete. Reaper spun on his heel and simply walked away, leaving his victim dead behind him as he was sure Widowmaker was doing with hers. Reaper's body was present in his situation, but his mind couldn't be further. 

 

Having just ended another human's existence, preyed on their soul, and walked away without so much as batting an eye, it was absolutely infuriating that a bruise on Angela's neck was hollowing his brain inside out. He couldn't stop seeing her terror or pain, and her gentle touch of his damaged face ate away at him like a disease... And some _Gabriel_ part of him wanted caress her and swallow up all her burdens. 

 

But Gabriel died in the burning heap of Overwatch. Angela had resurrected many people, but _Gabriel_ was one she couldn't bring back, not anymore. 

 

So why did mummified aspects of him now stir? 

 

********  

 

It had been days since Reaper had seen her, between his mission and travel time. But in a way Angela _was_ with him the entire time, gnawing on his mind and wringing him dry of guilt. Night had long since fallen when he stepped back into Talon's bunker, however he was very minorly aware of that. One thing was spurring his actions, and he wasn't even sure why. 

 

Slipping by any night guards just to avoid questions or delays, he evaporated under the familiar door and materialized in Angela's quarters. She had always been a light sleeper, he would have guessed being where she was only made things worse, and with one footstep Angela awoke. 

 

With a look and a gasp, Angela practically fell out of her bed in a scramble to find some footing. "What are you doing here?" She shakily croaked. 

 

Reyes didn't reply. He moved into her personal space, a dull ache striking his chest when sheer panic sprang to Angela's face. She was afraid of him. Still in a haze of sleep and terror, Angela jumped slightly and her hands lurched up in preparation to defend herself. Reaper reached for her, having his hand ducked from and swatted away. She was _extremely_ afraid of him. Although she fought away his fingers, Reyes eventually caught her wrists in one hand and earned high-pitched pleas in response. 

 

Reaching forward with his free hand, Reaper caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. For a few moments, he simply held her gaze while he allowed his sight to properly adjust to the faint moonlight filtering in through her dingy little window. Angela's eyes were wide, but she was silent, waiting. 

 

Gently, he tilted her head back to expose her throat, and noted how her shallow breath quickened even further. Angela continuously tried to look at him from her edge of vision, fear pulsing in every fiber of her being. Reaper watched her expression of terror temporarily, then he looked down at the line of cream flesh displayed to him, her bruising barely visible without light to properly reveal it. But he knew it was there, staring back at him with far more accusation than Angela ever had. 

 

Reyes guided Angela's face to the side, angling her so not one mark was hidden. He could see every subtle blotch, every clawed scar, and she was vulnerable under his touch. After examining the opposite side, Angela released a shuttered breath. 

 

"W—What are you doing?" It came on a whisper, but her question seemed to ring much louder in his ears. Reaper wasn't sure, or at least honest, about why this internal need drove him. Maybe he was a sadist who just couldn't stop inflicting torture on her, or maybe he was a masochist who enjoyed digging a knuckle into his emotional wounds. Whatever the case was, Reyes only truly knew one thing. 

 

He needed to see Angela. He needed _this_. 

 

Finally he tipped her face toward him, so he could see that trauma plastered all over it. Angela's fear had diminished greatly, but was still present and that felt like a knife to his gut. He released her no longer struggling hands, which he had made sure not to grip too tight. Searching her eyes for something—he was sure he'd know what when he found it—it was a small shock to his system when Angela's fingers reached up and touched his hand. She didn't try to pry him away, or swat him off, she just lightly brushed her touch over him. Although there was still concern in her gaze, she appeared to be searching for something in him too. 

 

His mask would give her few answers, but the red light that passed through his eyes might have. Reaper could almost hear Angela's breath hitch in her throat, perhaps whatever emotion caused the flare managed to filter through to her. Something likened to empathy filled her face and Angela's hand gently cupped his wrist. 

 

"Reyes..." 

 

It knotted his stomach and splashed a dose of reality on his world. He didn't deserve Angela's softness, her gentleness, and he didn't want her pity. Releasing her chin, Reaper's hand fell to his side with Angela's hand following it halfway down before letting him slip free. He wanted to say something, _something_ , but no words would form. So, clenching his jaw, Reaper turned away from her and just _breathed_ as he worked up the nerve to leave. 

 

Her presence was close—she was about to touch him. Swallowing, Reaper dissipated into smoke so he didn't receive her contact and exited her room, leaving Angela standing dumbfounded and slightly trembling. 

 

_"Reyes."_


	5. Defend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***TRIGGER WARNING? KINDA?***  
> I guess. I thought I should put this here in case. Subtle mentions of implied want of sexual assault. Intense situation that ends very satisfyingly, I assure you. Like I said, it's not a strong thing, I doubt I'll even change the tags, but I thought I should put this here in case or something.
> 
> OMG THIS IS LIKE 17 PAGES WTF HAPPENED TO ME
> 
> enjoy
> 
> EDIT: grammar

**CHAPTER FIVE**  

 

The sound of footsteps increased outside her door, yet Angela knew it wasn't even five thirty since no sunlight peered into her window. Her night was long and sleepless after Reyes left, for so long she simply stared at that space he had once occupied. When she finally did lay back down, Angela remained awake for hours. 

 

Why had Reyes come? Why the sudden tenderness? What did he see when he looked at her? Why had he left? So very many thoughts spun through her mind, and when she finally fell asleep she was quickly awakened by boots tramping about behind her door. 

 

Pushing herself into a seated position, Angela ran a hand down her face. She preferred to wake up early and make herself feel somewhat presentable before being hauled off to her slave labor. Today, however, she felt completely depleted and empty of effort. Pawing at her half fallen ponytail, she pulled her sad excuse of a scrunchy out, then rested back down and stared at the ceiling. For a while her mind was stirring, yet empty, unable to narrow down a subject to churn on. 

 

When it did find something, a heavy sigh escaped her. It was highly doubtful Reyes would show himself around her again, Angela figured. After all, it had only taken one display of some brand of mercy prior to cause his evasiveness for over a week. Now he had outright shown a fragmented version of the gentle warmth he used to heap on her. Angela could only assume that not only would he avoid her for an even longer amount of time—or perhaps indefinitely—but she gulped against the thought that she might not have long left for the world. Assets were assets only as long as they carried use, and if she caused Reaper to become compromised then her worth no longer outweighed her risk. 

 

How she wished she could save him. 

 

Closing her eyes, Angela decided to enjoy what time she had left by whatever means, even if it was just soaking in some temporary peace. Tucking her arms behind her head, she let her mind drift and wander wherever it pleased. And at first she was put off by where it led her, but soon Angela basked in her daydreams of memories long since gone. 

 

Memories of Reyes. 

 

 ********  

 

 _"I refuse to let you set foot on another battlefield until you let me teach you how to defend yourself_ _."_  

 

 _Angela wanted to rip her hair out. "We have been over this, Commander. I took an oath to do no harm as a doctor, and I believe in carrying that into every aspect of my life!"_  

 

 _Gabriel's unrelenting gaze and grounded posture expressed his unwillingness to budge—literally and metaphorically. "Doc, if you're_ _gonna_ _make me order it, I will."_  

 

 _"You cannot force me to fight_ _!"_  

 

 _"But I can force you to stay safe_ _, and if that means you no longer operate in the field, so be it_ _." He cocked an eyebrow at her when her face_ _cont_ _or_ _ted_ _into_ _shocked_ _frustration. "You're too valuable to go_ _completely_ _unarmed_ _."_  

 

 _His last statement almost sounded like it carried several meanings, but Angela swore that off as her imagination. "You would really do this? You would force me to choose between my duty and my morals?"_  

 

 _Gabriel half rolled his eyes and lightly clasped her shoulders. "Look, I'm not asking you to become some war monger, okay? You don't have to pull the damn thing, and you don't have to throw a punch. B_ _ut it would_ _be so much safer if you carried_ _a pistol and knew how to at least disarm someone_ _. That's all I'm asking,_ _learn how_ ** _just_** **_in case_** _."_  

 

 _Angela maintained eye contact for several breaths_ _._ _Gabriel's pools of rich brown refus_ _ed_ _to release her from his demands_ _,_ _and the warmth of his palms seeping into her skin slowly_ _melted_ _her will_ _. F_ _inally she sighed. "I will never have to draw it?"_  

 

 _"Never."_  

 

 _"And_ _I do not have to hit anyone?_ _"_  

 

 _"Not even once."_  

 

 _Her eyes hit the floor in thought. Angela_ ** _needed_** _to be on the battlefields, her team would die without her. Innocents would die without her. At least if she did this,_ _Reyes_ _would get_ _off her case about being some helpless weakling. With a defeated groan, Angela nodded. "Alright, fine. If it will satisfy you, I will let you teach me."_  

 

 _The corner of his mouth drew upwards, and his powerful hands gave a gentle rub to her arms. "Good," Releasing her, Gabriel pocketed one of his hands, "But it'll take a hell of a lot more than that to satisfy me, Doc." For a moment_ _Angela looked_ _ferociously_ _indignant_ _, but then Reyes threw her a wink_ _,_ _add_ _ing_ _suggestive tones to his statement._ _He_ _proceeded to_ _stroll_ _by her, leaving Angela beet-faced_ _in his wake_ _. "Meet me in the gym_ _after hours." His call back was almost lost on her ears as Angela sped back to her office._  

 

 ********  

 

"Are you still asleep?" Came an irritated holler along with a thumping on her door. 

 

Angela sat up. It was his voice. Mentally shaking herself, she rolled off her cot and opened her door to see one very aggravated Reaper standing there with his arms crossed. "I... Um, is it already time?" She squeaked out as she ran a hand over her face. In honesty, Angela didn't even hear the words exiting her lips, she focused on Reyes. 

 

Reyes, who seemed frozen for a few, tense moments. Feeling some cocktail of anxiety and curiosity, Angela tried to discern any kind of emotion out of Reaper's mask. What his blank, plastered on face yielded was surprisingly uninformative, yet it _seemed_ as though his gaze was as heavy and... heated as it had been the previous night. Then, his husky growl made her jolt a bit. "Yes, it is. Now let's get a move on." And he stepped aside to let her out. 

 

Keeping up with him, Angela noted that something felt different. It was as if static filled the air, crackling off of Reyes like he was a live wire. But was this energy change hostile? She couldn't tell. What Angela did know, was she kept catching glances from him. Perhaps more of an instinct than a knowledge, but his gaze felt like inescapable fog that enveloped her. If only she had a tiny window into his mind, so she could see what was processing through it... 

 

Stepping through the entrance, Angela received a halfhearted wave from Sombra who was preoccupied watching a movie. "Hello Sombra," Mercy greeted while she began to prep, "How are you feeling today?" 

 

Sombra sighed, " _Hola_. I'm not much different, just bored to death." 

 

Angela chuckled softly. "The healing process is a long one. You have made so much progress, though." She assured, beginning to tend to her patient. As she moved in the space, trying not to become distracted, Angela could feel Reaper's eyes burrowing into her. She wasn't sure how to feel. Scared was at the top of her list, concerned, unsure... And although she might have felt a sort of violation from anyone else, Angela was a bit unnerved to find that no such emotion existed with Reyes. 

 

So long had she wanted to feel like he _saw_ her. Even as a psycho, his attention still seemed to matter. 

 

Adjusting Sombra's pillows and helping the girl lay back, Angela noted a kind of puzzled look on her face. Continuing to busy about, she realized her patient was trying to watch her as well. "Is something wrong?" 

 

Humming, Sombra stared quizzically at her. "There's something different about you today... What did you do?" 

 

Angela might as well have broken into a cold sweat. Was everyone out to leer at her? "I... I do not think there is anything different..." She silently hoped that would be the end of it, but Angela was a fast learner and she had rapidly picked up Sombra didn't operate that way. 

 

"No, no something is _definitely_ different about you." Sombra's head was on a swivel to follow a blushing Mercy around as her scrutiny continued. "Can you tell what it is, Gabe? Oh wait, _sorry_ _._ Can you tell what it is, _Reaper_?" Making a face to mock him, she winced from turning too much, "She won't stand still long enough for me to figure it out." That earned an unamused huff from Angela. 

 

"Her hair." It came softly spoken, but quickly. Angela shot a look over at Reaper in surprise, finding him unwaveringly watching her. Reaching up, her fingers brushed over platinum blond locks freely flowing over her shoulder, then she quickly turned her attention back to her duties. In the corner of her mind, Angela became brutally aware of her appearance, she hadn't even remembered leaving her hair tie behind. 

 

"Ohhh! Yeah, that's it!" Sombra piped, trying to get a better look at her doctor who continuously dodged her attention. "Aww, Angie! You should wear it like that more often! You're gorgeous!"  

 

Angela chewed on her lip a bit, but straightened herself out when she was back in sight of Sombra, "Well that is very sweet to say, but I am afraid it is more of a hindrance like this on the job." Throwing her a smile, Angela began to clean up. 

 

"Maybe, but sometimes you gotta look _fine_ , you know?" The hacker proceeded to throw Reyes a narrow eyed tilt of her head, "Who knew you were actually observant, _Reaper_?" 

 

Angela cautiously peeked over at Reyes, who stood unflinching against his familiar wall. He paused whatever assessment he was making of her to stare daggers at Sombra, giving Angela an unpressured moment to finish her business. "Alright, I believe everything is done." She squeaked, earning a nod. Reaper pushed off the wall and exited first, leaving the angel to follow after him. Although Sombra started in asking if they wanted to stay and finish watching " _Doomfist_ _: A Documentary_ ", with a small wave Angela did as Reaper silently ordered. 

 

While he barely waited for Angela to catch up, Reaper soon developed a speed she could easily match, and once again they were alone. 

 

It made Angela feel claustrophobic. 

 

Some bundle of tense seconds went by, and she subconsciously rubbed her neck while her other arm maintained a protective wrap on her midsection. Her action caught Reaper's attention. "Does it hurt?" He muttered. 

 

Angela looked up to find him purposefully keeping his attention forward instead of on her. "What?" 

 

She noted his face temporarily flinch in her direction, and how he lightly cleared his throat. "Does it hurt?" He repeated. 

 

Processing her own actions followed by his question, a lightbulb went on over Angela's head. He seemed fixated on her bruises. On the bruises _he_ gave her. "Oh, you mean my neck?" She earned a single nod. Pulling her hand away to join her other arm around her waist, Angela shrugged, "No, not really. It is almost healed." Peering up, she noticed the way Reyes' posture seemed to bristle as if she had said something wrong.  

 

Thinking back, a pattern emerged. When Reyes had paid her a visit—and a small shiver sparked its way down her spine at the memory—he had tipped her head back to get a view of her neck. The idea that he might be suffering from guilt seemed farfetched, yet his recent actions were beginning to trend that way. Maybe if he had a good look, in a well lit and less intimate setting... Well, maybe something good or at least definitive would come of it. Sucking in a breath of courage, Angela lightly swept her hair away, "See?" Holding her locks with her opposite hand, she gave a small tilt to display her healing skin, "Not so bad." 

 

Keeping an eye on him from her peripheral vision, she watched him double take. Reaper's steps paused and Angela hesitated before stopping as well. Cautiously, she dropped her hair and her eyes followed, unsure of what to do or say. Perhaps she should have left it alone, Reyes did seem sensitive about the subject. Or she may have guessed wrong entirely, and now— 

 

Now, his talons oh so lightly grazed across her skin as his fingers brushed her hair back to see for himself. Goosebumps littered Angela's skin as Reaper's clawed digits rested on her flesh while his palm hovered, her hair draped across it. In hindsight, it probably wasn't _her room_ that made their last encounter intimate. 

 

Reaper's hand rested a bit further, beginning to cup Angela's neck. A pang of fight or flight zipped through her, however his hand never tightened beyond a slight caress. His touch was gentle, and a soft glow began to emit from the sockets of his mask. She was quickly dissolving under Reaper's attention. In the silence of the hallway, Angela heard a small sound vibrate in his throat. Somewhere between a hum and a groan, that graveled noise made Angela's lashes flutter slightly as heat pulsed through her against her conscious will. Reyes just had that effect on her. 

 

All at once, his hand was gone, and Angela had to gather her scattered thoughts. "Yeah, looks better." Reaper mumbled, the source of that little sound he made still fueling his voice as he resumed his strides. Angela's body moved more of reflex than active thought, because her mind was a mad whirlwind. It seemed they walked for a long while, but in reality it probably wasn't more than another length of hallway when Reaper's mumble sliced through her reverie. "Wait here." And he disappeared behind a door. 

 

Well, he left her completely alone. That was a good sign, she figured. Leaning back against the opposite wall, Angela rubbed her exhausted eyes and let her head loll. How could she still get that tightness in her abdomen, that lust, that tingle when Reyes offered her even the smallest touch? She wasn't an eighteen year old girl anymore, smitten with the rugged commander. She was his _verdammt_ hostage! And more importantly, he might have shared the same—glorious, muscle lined—body of Reyes, but did his fractured mind really still contain any of the man she had loved? Angela didn't even know if she was capable of scooping up enough of his shattered being to put him back together again. 

 

A sense of odd hope washed over her, though. Angela was _positive_ that more of those pieces remained in Reyes than he believed. 

 

 ********  

 

 _Angela cautiously navigated her way down to the on-base gym,_ _skepticism in every movement. She hadn't weaved through this section since her_ _official tour, and she felt extremely out of her element. Following the signs, and turning a corner, Angela at last found some equipment that appeared_ _conducive_ _with a gym. Slipping through the room, she took note of the primary_ _fluorescents_ _that were off, a much softer, dimmer light replacing them. She gulped. That meant it was technically closed, and she would be alone with—_  

 

 _Reyes._  

 

 _It appeared he had recently arrived, as he was in the middle of taping his hands up. Angela barely noticed that though, as_ _his sleeveless, form fitted shirt gave her much more pressing things to focus on._ _Like that way his bicep flexed slightly with every rotation of tape_ _._  

 

 _Heavens, did her mouth actually water?_  

 

 _After a few moments of gawking and then attempting to choke out some form of communication, Reyes seemed to sense her_ _presence_ _and glanced over. "Hey Doc." His eyes took a moment to look her over, tank top, patterned_ _sports bra peeking out, and athletic_ _leggings,_ _all pastel c_ _olors and glaringly feminine_ _._ _A_ _smirk tugged his lips. "You don't do this_ _kinda_ _thing very often, do you_ _?"_  

 

 _Angela prickled, an anxious blush seeping into her cheeks,_ _"W—What makes you say that, Commander? I may not use this place much, but I keep fit._ _" G_ _iving a hesitant shrug, her hands began to wring around the handle of her duffle bag. "I mean, I a_ _m not as physically gifted as yourself for example... Then again I suppose few are_ _. Well, that is,_ _because_ _you were... Um... Genetically enhanced."_ _G_ _od,_ _the_ _leash on that tongue of hers frayed every time she was around him._  

 

 _Forcing her eyes to_ _the_ _ground before thoughts of physically unleashing her tongue on him could take root, Angela_ _nervously squirm_ _ed_ _in her own skin._  

 

 _Reyes' velvet chuckle graced her and echoed a bit in the lonely space. "I_ _appreciate that you_ _apparently_ _know my file, but that's not what I meant._ _" He tore off his tape and tossed it to Angela_ _—which she promptly dropped. "_ _If you showed up in here wearing that, you'd be_ _pounced on_ _._ _"_  

 

 _Angela looked between his smug expression and the tape_ _, as if unable to determine which to deal with first. "I don't..." Her voice trailed off with her thoughts._  

 

 _"Tape up, we don't want you hurting your_ _livelihood_ _there." And Reyes gestured to her hands._  

 

 _"I would not want boxer's fracture..." Angela_ _softly agreed_ _,_ _scooping up_ _the tape before_ _eyeing_ _the expectant man edging closer to her. "But do I actually have to hit you?"_  

 

 _Gabriel propped a hand on his toned hip—that his sweatpants d_ _eliciously_ _d_ _ipped just slightly below—and cocked an eyebrow at her. "What, you scared you might actually hurt m_ _y physically gifted self_ _?" He appeared to relish the way Angela fumbled before he waved a dismissive hand at her. "_ _Don't worry,_ _I'll show you what we'll be doing."_ _And he crossed his arms while he waited for her to finish her wrapping._  

 

 _Angela was meticulous in everything she did, and taping her hands was no exception. Unfortunately, being as her mind was anywhere but the tape, she bobbled the spool some and took her sweet time. Time Gabriel wasn't willing to waste_ _._  

 

 _A large hand broke her out of her attempted concentration, Angela uttering a soft gasp in response. Replacing her fingers in the loop of tape, and cupping her arm, Reyes quickly wrapped her digits with_ _practiced_ _precision. Angela tried desperately to control her twitching fingers, as they wanted to surge forward and explore the rock solid_ _,_ _masculine_ _body before her._  

 

 _Barely registering that he taped her second hand as well, the only thing that br_ _ought_ _Angela from her stupor was Gabriel's voice. "Now, if you've gotten all your nerves out, can we start?"_  

 

 _Angela was deeply regretting this whole thing already. She was simply going to end up making a fool of herself in front of the man she wanted most to impress._  

 

 ********  

 

A gentle smile and a light sigh passed Angela's lips. How a simple touch from Reyes could short-circuit her entire brain had always been a mystery, yet remained a proven fact. The way he looked at her... Or at least the way she imagined he looked at her from under his guise—when he wasn't in a homicidal rage—was much like that of how he once did all those years ago. Softened, intrigued, with a controlled intensity boiling beneath the surface. She always wondered what hid beneath that intensity. 

 

Hearing footsteps clomping closer, Angela snapped up straight and made sure she was well out of the way. Had she not been waiting, she might have bolted and found somewhere to let the Talon agents pass. But seeing as Reaper was a highly volatile person, she decided against that course of action. Taking a peek at the agents out of her periphery, their words became a bit clearer—Russian accents, she thought—and they appeared to be discussing some kind of business. Good. Maybe they would just walk right by her— 

 

That hope died as the pair looked up and saw her, slowing their tracks to a crawl and examining her closer. "What is this?" One man hissed, inching into her personal space like a prowling wolf. Oh, there was the violated feeling she'd been missing. "The little doctor doesn't have her bodyguard, huh?" 

 

Angela refused to make eye contact, adapting a stoic silence while remaining aware of their hands. She heard a small gasp and noticed the second agent tug at his companion's arm. " _Hey_ ," He lowered his voice to a whisper and ducked closer, sweat forming on his brow, "Reaper will have your hide if you do anything to her. You were there when he assigned guards, we shouldn't even be near—" 

 

Shaking off his hand, the first agent shot a glare at the warning. "Psh, yeah, I'm sure he would _love_ to keep this to himself." _This?_ If Angela had hackles, they'd be raised. Then her blood ran cold when he leaned in close to her and touched a few strands of her hair, "Besides, who would even believe you?" His voice was soft and threatening. Snatching her face away from him and earning a scowl, Angela finally looked him dead in the face. 

 

"You should listen to your friend there." Her tone matched his, and provoked a similar response. The agent looked as if he might raise a hand to her, but the sound of a door behind him, along with Reaper's voice, caused the man to let his comrade pull him away and started down the hallway. His eyes remained on Angela as long as they could, though. And nothing but pure venom spilled off of him. 

 

Angela blew out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and looked up as Reaper stepped out. Her bluff had worked, but in truth, it worried her that the agent had a point. Even with Reaper's apparent protection, she wasn't exactly in a position to defend herself, much less snitch on someone's actions. Surely, not even Reaper would _actually_ side with her over his own subordinates. 

 

 

Right? 

 

Reaper's gaze was on his Talon agents as he approached her. Angela could have swore she heard some kind of guttural growl slide out of his throat. With a swallow, she tentatively reached to touch his arm, only to have his face whip around and halt the action altogether. "Come on." Reaper finally said, lightly catching her elbow and leading her back the way they came. He threw another look behind them and Angela could almost see his sneer. 

 

"Is... Um, is everything alright?" She squeaked, trying to keep up with his fast paced steps. 

 

"You're going back to your room for the evening." Reaper circumvented her question. Angela's face snapped up to him, her eyes widening. "I'll be back later, no one comes in your room until then. Understand?" 

 

Blinking, Angela nodded to his demands. "May I ask why the sudden lockdown?" Her voice lowered a bit, but she kept her gaze on Reyes, trusting him to steer her. Again, he refused to answer, this time opting for silence. What had he seen? Why the sudden protectiveness? Perhaps she had reason to be more concerned for her safety than she'd thought. As they rounded the corner, wails dragged Angela's attention away from her escort and the pair halted. 

 

Two agents dragged along a third, the man dangling between them crying out with every step as his compound fractured thigh jostled with the movement. "Reaper! Sir!" One of them hastened their pace and paused in front of them. "Permission to speak." 

 

"Denied." Reaper growled and started to move passed them, but Mercy lightly tugged back against him and met his glare with an expectant gaze. As if weighing some various number of options, Reaper quietly met her stare for a moment. Groaning, he then turned to his men. "What happened?" 

 

"There was an accident. He was knocked off a catwalk." That seemed odd to Angela. Where was there a catwalk in a primarily underground bunker? 

 

Reaper simply released another groan, but the other agent cut in before their boss could deny their unspoken request. "Sir, we were hoping you would allow the Doctor to help him. He's going to bleed out if we don't fix him fast." 

 

Mercy seemed to perk up at the challenge, pushing her previous encounter from her mind and staring pleadingly up at Reaper to let her assist. After several seconds, a strangled growl left Reaper's throat. "Fine!" A grin split Angela's face and Reaper leaned a bit closer to her, "I'll be back in a while." He gave her a small nod before she sped into the medical room. "Take her— _unharmed_ —straight to her room when she's finished." His tone sent ice down the agent's spines, but they quickly nodded and dragged their comrade after Mercy. 

 

Sombra's squeals of joy could be heard halfway down the hall. 

 

 ********  

 

Angela stepped into her room, fending off vigorous thank you's from the agent who escorted her back. Apparently, a bit of compassion and grace went a long way with these hardened terrorists. Once he was out of her hair, Angela slumped onto her bed with a huff. She was exhausted. It had taken several hours to fix that broken leg, and she was running on fumes. Glancing up to her tiny window, Angela noted the bit of soft light trickling in with the sunset. 

 

Her dinner would be coming soon, but Reyes' warning reverberated through her mind over and over. She shouldn't open her door to anyone, not even for the meal she had been dying for. Although she still found it odd that she controlled her own lock and key, she figured that probably wasn't bad advice. Sighing, Angela rolled back and resumed her position of the early morning—staring blankly at her ceiling. The events of her day flashed back through her mind, making several kinds of shivers tingle down her spine. 

 

Attempting to push the threats of assault from her mind, Angela decided to focus on Reyes and the curious way he caressed her. 

 

 ********  

 

 _"OOF!"_  

 

 _Angela stared_ _star struck_ _at the ceiling as she roughly hit the mat for the_ ** _hundredth_** ** _time_** _. Reyes paced around her like a hyena ready to pounce, his dominant aura reinforced by his_ _uncanny ability to sweep her feet out from under her._  

 

 _"I do not think you are playing fair." Angela panted, rolling over and propping herself up on her hands and knees. "You told me to strike your hands."_  

 

 _"I did." Gabriel agreed, a sly smile playing at his lips. "Where has it gotten you?"_  

 

 _"Put on my ass." Angela's bluntness struck him and made her smile a bit. "If you are trying to break my pacifism, you will fail."_  

 

 _Gabriel shook his head and watched her carefully stand herself back up. "That's not my goal." He stepped in front of her and reclaimed his stance with his legs braced and his hands up to catch her punches. "Again."_  

 

 _Angela sighed. They had done this at least twenty_ _times, and each time, as she weakly threw punches at his hands, he_ _would_ _seize an opportunity to swipe her feet out and plant her on the ground. By round five she started recoiling and_ _attempting_ _to_ _cloister_ _against the incoming sweep. That earned some disapproving hums and swifter kicks. If his goal wasn't to get her to fight, what was it?_  

 

 _Rolling her_ _stiff neck, Angela stepped forward and sloppily reclaimed the stance he had taught her. Her lungs burned, her tailbone ached, and her hands sweat from the tape. She just wanted to satisfy whatever sick desire drove her commander on_ _._  

 

 _All at once, they began to circle. Angela threw a few halfhearted jabs at Gabriel's_ _palm_ _s_ _, and judged his expression. He was very displeased with her lack of effort, but what did he expect? Angela tuned her senses to Gabriel's form, trying to will his goal out of him. In an instant, she saw a slight twitch in his fingers and she sprang back to avoid the on-coming kick—which didn't come._ _Embarrassment_ _burned in her cheeks for her jumpiness, but as Angela dragged her gaze to meet his, she was startled by his gleaming approval._  

 

 _"Better." Gabriel gestured for her to come back. Being paranoid was better? Angela was busy trying to figure it out as she stepped back and reflexively resumed their pace. A few more times, she tapped his hand and quickly flinched as if to_ _dodge a blow that never came. And each time, Reyes praised her with his eyes. Exhaustion and frustration bubbled in Angela as she drove on with the strange exercise, but_ _when_ _her weak fist met his fingers, her recoil was suddenly met with a masculine leg sweeping into her._  

 

 _Hopping awkwardly and digging her fingers into his muscles, Angela caught and pressed back against his limb. She quickly felt his force diminish, likely pity for her weak state, but he hung in the position with his leg caught and smiled at her. "Perfect."_  

 

 _Angela tilted her head questioningly and looked down at her action. Her leg had come up to brace for the rest of the impact, and her hands latched onto him with her nails lightly_ _clawing_ _into his flesh. Traveling her gaze up his body to his face, her silent question hung on her features._ _What had she done differently?_  

 

 _Reyes chuckled, "Do you see it now? The difference between_ _rolling over_ _and self-defense?_ _You don't have to be violent to take care of yourself._ _" He challenged. At once, Angela understood. He wanted her to not flinch away, not go down like a hobbled cow, but to_ ** _defend_** _herself._ _The swatting he had put her through probably didn't even matter, the real test was how she responded to being attacked. Many times over she had failed,_ _had simply given into the blows and taken her lumps,_ _but the single success burned a proud flame in her chest._  

 

 _With that being said, she wasn't thrilled about Gabriel's methods. A_ _mischievous_ _grin crept onto her face, and in a swift motion Angela wretched his leg out of balance and sent_ _her_ _commander to_ _the_ _mat with a mighty grunt. Gabriel shook the shock off his face as he looked up at her, then broke into a laugh that melted Angela's insides. "Alright," He conceded, "I guess I deserved that."_  

 

 _Moving quick as a blur, Gabriel knocked Angela's legs out once more and brought her tumbling down_ _on top of him. His laughter still bubbled out of his chest, but Angela was feeling rather breathless and not from her latest tumble. "You_ _gotta_ _be better than that, Angela." Reyes smirked._  

 

 _"Angela?" She quirked an eyebrow and realized just how close her face was to his. She could practically see the humor sparkling in his eyes and feel the satisfaction on his breath._  

 

 _Gabriel's face dropped for a moment, the realization of his informal slip striking him, but quickly a new brand of smile tugged his lips. Leaning back onto his elbows in a downright sprawl, Angela felt her face begin to flush at the intimate situation. "Take five, you earned it." He praised, chuckling softly at the way she dismounted him. "I've got plenty more to teach you,_ _after all_ _."_  

 

 _The suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows almost made Angela pass out._  

 

 ********  

 

The first knock surprised her. The second knotted her stomach. The third carried a voice. "Come on! Don't you want your dinner?" But it wasn't Reyes, so Angela remained in a defensive stance—one she didn't realize she'd taken. When at last she heard a defeated sigh, the strip of light beneath her door became partially obstructed with a tray of food designated for her, and she heard footsteps padding away. 

 

Wetting her lips a bit, Angela glanced around as if the walls might tattle on her for snatching her food. Surely, opening her door for two seconds to grab the dish wouldn't hurt. She would swipe it, and lock her door before anyone even noticed. Creeping forward, Angela's paranoia got the better of her and she peered through the space between door and floor. 

 

Nothing... At least, nothing she could see. What she did see was food, and her mind was made up by her stomach. 

 

Carefully unlocking her door, Angela slid her door open and grabbed the tray—only to be greeted with an extra plate beside the tray that appeared to contain some sort of cake. A small note peeked out at her from the floor, too. Checking both directions, Angela spun around and set her tray down on her bed, then grabbed the cake and note. 

 

 _"Dear Miss Doctor, this is for all your help today. Thanks again."_  

 

A smile crept to Angela's lips at the softhearted gesture. Perhaps these Talon agents weren't as vile as their deeds alluded to— 

 

"Isn't that just the sweetest thing?" The breath drained from her body upon hearing the Russian accent, and looking up, Angela found a familiar agent in her doorway. Her mouth going dry, she immediately began to assess. He made sure to keep his hands on the door and frame, surely so she couldn't shut him out, and the smile on his face sent tremors of instinctual fear through her insides. 

 

"I do not believe it is time to tend to Sombra." Angela tried to disarm the situation, slowly taking a few steps back while her mind devised plans. Unfortunately, the agent slid into her room after her, retaining the distance and shutting her in with him. 

 

"You're right," He purred, eyeing her predatorily, "It's not time to tend to _Sombra_." The implication made her skin crawl. He nonchalantly dragged his fingers over the edge of her tray. "You know, half the compound is talking about you." A small part of Angela almost hoped his oddly conversational tone meant he'd changed his mind. "The Overwatch doctor who will treat any mangy beast that crosses her path." 

 

Angela's back bumped against the wall as she ran out of space quickly, and she slowly slid into a defensive posture. The agent released a bitter laugh, "Half of them don't even know where your room is. How unfair is that? Reaper shouldn't be the only one who gets to _thank you_."  

 

Angela dodged his attempt to grab her and regained her footing. A growl reverberated in his throat while he made a more forward try at snatching her, but Angela knocked his hand away. When it wasn't someone of Reaper's size, strength, and speed, her dodging abilities fared much better. The agent made to lunge her way, and Angela ducked by him and hopped onto her bed, watching him like a feral animal. She had to escape, had to get to open ground... 

 

Glancing at the door, their eyes seemed to reach the same place with the same thought, and all at once Angela dove for it. 

 

She was caught around the waist. Flailing and kicking, Angela clawed at the door, shrieks and grunts exiting her as she struggled to free herself. "I advise you do not continue with this!" She hollered, earning a bitter laugh as she squirmed away for a moment and propped her door open an inch. His form moved in on her again, and Angela decided to come back to the door later, rolling away and swiveling back into her room. 

 

A strangled hiss of frustration gritted through her assailant's teeth as he spun and stepped toward her again. "You can dance all you want, sweetheart." At once, Angela's eyes shifted to a spot beyond him and her stance went lax, eyes widening. He grinned. "We're gonna have some fun, whether you like it or not." 

 

Angela's face relaxed, her eyes falling back to his face as the smell of charcoal filled the room. Without warning, the agent's form was hurled, a dent forming in the metal wall from his impact. Wheezing and coughing, the man turned his gaze up to see death itself standing there, smoke pouring off his body. Sputtering and babbling, he tried to come up with some excuse that would satisfy his boss. 

 

His body was heaved clean through the newly replaced door and halfway through the wall behind it. 

 

Gasping against shattered ribs, the man tried to choke out some excuse to satisfy the wrath of Reaper, but a soft shushing from his boss halted all sound. Reaper sauntered over to the destroyed heap of human and crouched down to eyelevel with him. "We're gonna have some fun," Reaching up, Reyes tipped his mask up to give his victim a view of the face he'd be acquainted with for the next several hours, a mad smile breaking out across Reaper's face as his demonic eyes glowed with bloodthirst. "And I guarantee you're not gonna like it." Even with broken bones and likely punctured organs, the agent's body instinctually tried to scramble away, only to be halted by a massive boot and a hand gripping his collar. " _Sweetheart_." 

 

All Angela heard was the screams of pain and horror as Reaper dragged his subordinate off. 

 

**** 

 

Angela remained curled up on her bed long after it had gone dark outside. A few agents stopped by to see what the racket was, but as word quickly spread, none would dare be caught in the vicinity anymore. Not even to repair the split open door. 

 

She didn't mind the odd sense of isolation, it afforded her privacy. The entire ordeal had been terrifying, and while she tried to process her good fortune of being unharmed, one thing kept coming back. As soon as she saw Reyes materialize behind her attacker, it was as if someone had plugged a tap into her inner fear reservoir and drained it all. She knew by the sheer fury literally resonating off of him that not one hair on her head would be harmed. What she found even more strange was the fact that Reyes had reacted so strongly. 

 

What had he done to his own agent? 

 

The growingly familiar scent of fire filled the space and Angela turned to see Reyes forming before her. His mask was back where it belonged, but part of her wished it wasn't. For a long moment, they held a silent gaze between the florescent hall lights and the gentle moonlight. Then, carefully lowering himself to the bed beside her, Reaper broke their silence. "I told you not to open that door." His tone was stern, yet carried a softness she couldn't recall ever hearing prior. 

 

Angela tightened her arms around her legs. "I know, Reyes. I was starving." She murmured. Taking note of the way Reaper glanced at her destroyed tray of food and cake crumbled about the floor, she found comfort in the slight sigh he released. It gave her a sense that he understood her plight. But anger still vibrated off his form as he sat silently beside her. 

 

They remained quiet again for a while, simply existing in the space together. Angela craved his touch though, some form of comfort—anything really. He had saved her, and now he would barely look at her. Biting her lip, she reached to touch his arm and huffed when he carefully dodged her fingers. "Why?" It came out as a whisper, but it received Reaper's full attention, "Why do you attack me, then lock me away from everyone else? Why do you act like you hate me, but protect me? Why do you avoid me so badly, yet touch me like I am something so precious to you?" Tears welled in Angela's eyes as she softly heaved against sobs in her chest. 

 

"I don't know." His answer brought Angela's gaze up to him, and a soft gasp escaped her. In the dull lighting with his dark clothes, she hadn't realized Reaper was soaked in blood. Reyes shot to his feet and began pacing around in the confined space. "I don't understand." He growled, half to himself. Angela sat up a bit and observed his agitated state. Snapping out a few curses, Reyes spun and looked her in the face. His voice was exasperated, but held a subtle desperation that clenched her stomach. 

 

"Why can't I kill you?"


	6. Balm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's taken this long to update, I really am. Like I promised though, I won't abandon it! School has just been insane, and really kept me from being able to work on this as I wanted to. Hopefully you all enjoy. You've been leaving the nicest encouragement ever, thank you so much! I can't guarantee that school won't continue to make updating difficult, but hopefully I'll be able to update quicker since spring break is coming up. :)
> 
> I'm not sure if this chapter flows as well as I'd like, but screw tweaking, y'all have been patient enough lol.

**CHAPTER SIX**  

 

Reaper watched Angela blink a few times, as if trying to honestly come up with an answer. Groaning and resuming his pacing, Reyes shook his head. "It shouldn't be a problem, I should have been able to do it a long time ago." His explanation felt more like uncontrollable babbling to him, but an inner dam broke. It had when he found the agent trying to assault her. Assaulting Angela. _His_ angel. Seeing her about to be brutalized changed something in him, something he didn't want changed. 

 

His hands felt antsy, like they needed to do anything to direct his mind, but they found nothing. Releasing a pent up roar from the stake of emotion driving itself deeper into him, Reyes dug his claws into his hood—fabric sufficing instead of his hair. The sound of Angela moving only tore him apart worse, that she was witnessing his meltdown. She stood behind him, soundless, motionless, and completely fixated on his being, appearing content to let him explode. 

 

Reaper's teeth gritted on his frustration. "Damn it, do you even understand? Do you know how much you've twisted me?" He spun around to face her and noticed her gulp with his statement, yet she still remained silent. "Do you understand that I put you here," He held his arms out to the destruction around them, "Because I couldn't make myself subject you to our holding cells? Did you think you just got luck of the draw in boarding? Or with all female guards? Do you think I fought with Widow constantly before you? Or did menial bullshit everyday? That you _just so happened_ to fit into my schedule?" Growling, his body moved desperately around the claustrophobic space, his actions mirroring the inner turmoil. 

 

"For fuck's sake, I just slaughtered one of my own agents for touching you, Angela!" A sickening reality cemented into Reaper's stomach as the wool over his eyes lifted and he saw the intention to kill _her_ was never rooted in his own actions, only in his words. If Reaper actually _wanted_ to kill Angela, he would have. 

 

Gripping her shoulders—smattering her skin with her attacker's blood in the process—Reyes desperately searched Angela's face for an answer. "It's been a living hell, and I should have been able to end it all by now. So _you_ tell _me_. Why? What have you done to me, Angela? Why are you the _one fucking person_ on this forsaken planet that I can't picture the world without? Why can't I kill you?" 

 

Angela studied him for several long moments with a surprised expression, perhaps waiting to see if there was more stored up inside him, or perhaps forming her response. She might have just been basking in his usage of her name. Either way, when she finally spoke, her voice was gentle, and her lashes fluttered slightly. "Maybe now you understand how it felt..." Her face tilted a bit, angelic features trying to imbed her truth into him, "Why I could not let _you_ die." It might have been a soothing tone, but her words were like daggers to his already bruised reality. 

 

Reaper's hands fell slack, and he stared through her. _Was_ this was how she felt when she revived him? Did she truly forgo her care for everything else—as he had recently been doing—because nothing else had mattered? Not even moral ramifications from reviving a traitor to Overwatch? Not even possible side-effects? Had the only thing that mattered in her eyes at that moment been him? Did she actually love him _that_ much? 

 

Did he actually love her that much? 

 

Trying to choke something out, it barely registered when a sound escaped Angela's throat and she began rummaging through her small stash of items. Reyes simply stood there, trying to make sense of his fractured sense of self. So very many things seeped through the faults opening in his world—human things—but what rose above all the rest like acid in his throat, was shame. A kind of shame he, Reaper, had no business feeling, but one that gouged him nonetheless. It was a feeling he would have experienced in Gabriel's life. 

 

That which was Gabriel's might still be Reaper's after all. 

 

Forcing himself to focus, Reyes looked at the space Angela had previously occupied, then turned his gaze to her form as she used a spare shirt to clean off the scarlet smears caking her arms. And then he caught sight of the once again broken entryway. Familiar protectiveness welled inside Reyes, his mind spinning for a more suitable answer than keeping her cooped up in the middle of the lion's den. He had given up on fighting his protective instincts over Angela, he was going to preserve her in any way he could and was gradually making his peace with that. 

 

Angela's eyes were dull as she scrubbed her skin, the normal light of her spirit dimmed by her wariness and fear. Perhaps he had been too gentle with her attacker in the end... Or perhaps he had been too brutal with Angela. Unfortunately, he couldn't let her go—what an invertebrate he had become, thinking such things. Nonetheless. Reyes might not kill her, but Angela was still technically a prisoner, at least in the eyes of everyone else on base. If he released a high-ranking Overwatch agent without so much as a how-do-you-do, it would be his own head on a spike. 

 

His own... 

 

It hit Reyes like a truck, and he put a light grip on Angela's arm—ruining her skin again. Looking up quizzically, Angela shot some disapproval of the squelch his drenched digits made when they coiled around her. "Come with me." Was Reaper's only order as he started pulling her out. 

 

"Should I not grab my things—" 

 

"Later." He swiped her blanket on the way out and wrapped her in it while making sure she kept up. Angela seemed nervous, constantly checking to make sure someone wasn't following. She did subconsciously tuck herself into his side, however, and that gave Reaper an odd satisfaction. Little did Angela know that Sombra and the unfortunate agents guarding her were the only ones left in the bunker, the rest were dismissed—or fled for fear of Reaper's fury. Continuing forward, he led her through new hallways, into new corridors, and down a sloping path to a large door. 

 

After punching in his code—which Angela may or may not have catalogued to memory—Reyes guided her down the long cave until they came to a walkway. Angela's tiny gasp was audible in the silence around them. She apparently hadn't discovered that this Talon branch had been dug into a cliffside, and she was only confined to a small portion of it. A smile subconsciously crawled onto Reaper's face upon seeing Angela's features marginally reclaim some of their lost light. 

 

She was enjoying the view through the glass wall of the West end. Maybe he would show her around some night when everyone important was asleep... Where in the hell did that thought come from? Those damn voices in his head had really gone off the deep end. Brushing it off, Reaper trudged on until they found themselves in a secluded sector at a door Angela had barely even seen at first, it blended in so well. With a wave of Reyes' hand, a numerical panel appeared, and a few clicks of his claws later, they entered. 

 

Reaper stood aside and let Angela explore. It was quite an upgrade from her previous living situation. The room was large and rather sterile, proper, untouched. Everything was neat, walls a spotless brushed metal, bed clothed in white sheets, and a desk sat at the wall opposite. Angela investigated a bit, thrilled to find an adjoined bathroom. As her discovery took her back to the main bedroom, she touched a blank wall and shrieked slightly as a hidden closet slid open. All at once her gumption drained. 

 

"Welcome to your new living quarters." Reaper greeted, chuckling softly at Angela's stunned face when she turned from the closet filled with sets of black body armor and excess shotgun ammo, " _My_ living quarters." He leaned back against the wall and braced for the incoming refusal attempt. 

 

 ********  

 

 _"Reyes, I cannot do this." Angela's eyes were wide and she shook her head vehemently. She was chickening out._  

 

 _"Doc, listen, it's not that bad. I think you'll actually enjoy it once you get into it a little bit." Gabriel tried to flash her an encouraging smile, but a glazed over fear had lacquered Angela's eyes. Her head shook faster and she dropped her gun on the small table in front of them. With a sigh, Reyes chased after her as she sped out of the shooting range._  

 

 _Snatching her by the arm, Reyes spun Angela around and frowned at the dissociated look on her face. "I... I will not... No..." She murmured and sputtered as tears rose to her eyes. "It is like my parents all over again." Her whisper struck him, and his grip on her arm turned_ _into a caress_ _._  

 

 _"_ _Your parents_ _?"_  

 

 _Bringing her hands in front of herself in a closed off posture, Angela's head lolled forward and_ _Reyes_ _thought for a moment that he shouldn't have asked. It wasn't his place to get personal with her, especially when she was clearly reluctant to share. But_ _then_ _Angela_ _pressed out words through a sob. "The—_ _ey_ _died_ _in the_ _Omnic_ _Crisis_ _when I_ _wa_ _—s a girl. I have be—_ _en_ _a pacifist ever since." Guilt wretched Gabriel's stomach, but he swallowed it down and lightly slid his hands up and down her arms in a comforting action._ _He had an inclination her parents died,_ _and_ _it was obvious to deduce she became a pacifist because of some such trauma, however Gabriel had never_ _really_ _thought perky, bubbly, happy Angela might have some deep emotional wounds_ _too._ _"I_ _cannot be the one on... on the other end of the bullets, Reyes."_  

 

 _He sighed, and stared over Angela's head for a_ _handful_ _of_ _seconds_ _while she tried to breathe. Figuring she had heard many_ _arguments_ _in favor of necessary violence_ _,_ _Gabriel_ _decided to approach it differently. "A weapon is a tool like any other. It only depends on how you use it." Angela's face tipped up to him and he regained his encouraging smile. "You don't have to use a gun for violence," Her head tilted a bit in curiosity, "Remember what we talked about in training?"_  

 

 _Slowly, she began to nod as if_ _sun was peeking through the fog shrouding her_ _. "Diversion, dodging, delaying." Angela repeated_ _having had_ _the words_ _drilled into her. "So... Using a gun in this capacity would_ _entail..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to connect the dots herself._  

 

 _Gabriel gently guided her back into the range. "_ _I'll show you." Angela's eyes searched his face, concern beaming from her, but he gave her shoulders a light squeeze._ _"_ _Just trust me_ _."_  

 

 ********  

 

Reyes counted eight different emotions that ran through Angela. Finally, she settled on exhausted, nervous defiance. 

 

"I cannot take your room." Angela's body language let on to deeper concerns she withheld, "Where...Where will you sleep?" A twinge of pain struck Reaper at the wobbly quality in her voice. Surely she didn't think she was in danger? Granted, she had just been attacked and nearly met a much more grim fate, but the way she recoiled at the thought—as if _he_ might try something—bristled him. 

 

"Now let's get one thing straight." Reyes crossed his arms, sudden sternness drawing Angela's full focus, "I'm a lot of things, and I'll be the first to tell you that, but a molester is _not_ one of them. And as far as everyone else, I'm pretty sure the corpse disposal has put them off of trying anything. You're safe with me." Angela's body eased slightly, but a curiosity filled her gaze instead. "And I hope by now you know that." 

  

His angel blinked, and then a soft smile broke out across her face. Against his will, Reaper's stomach did a backflip—he couldn't readily remember the last time he had seen such a warm expression directed his way by Angela. Or anyone for that matter. The woman nodded, "Of course I know that." She cradled her elbows and looked at the floor. Perhaps she honestly was concerned about his wellbeing over her own, then. Satisfied, Reyes gave a nod. 

 

"Good. Then get comfortable," Angela's head snapped back up, a protest rising to her lips but Reyes merely stripped his hands of his gloves and continued as he stepped by her, "You'll have to lay low for a while. But soon enough I'll start taking you down to your little Talon outreach program in the day, and coming to get you later. No one will see, at least no one who I give a shit about." Angela's mouth opened to protest, but once again he cut her off, rifling through his closet for a decent change of clothes, "And don't ask me where I'll sleep, because I don't. Not much. What little I do, I do in the daytime. So long as you don't mind me grabbing a few things now and again," He held up his garment choices for emphasis, "You'll have privacy." 

 

At last, it seemed the stubborn doctor didn't have an immediate retort. He could see the wheels churning in her mind, her eyes flicking about with her thoughts. A couple times Angela eyed him again, some argument blazing on her tongue, but each time she paused, and her words fell away. Damn she was gorgeous when she was flustered. 

 

And when her teeth dug into the corner of her lip, the light flush in her cheeks deepening, Reaper exercised his self-control and stepped into the bathroom—shutting the door rather roughly behind himself. 

 

Quickly stripping off the gear soiled with remnants of a certain Russian's carcass, Reaper took his time and told himself that he wouldn't be seeing Angela as much as he now feared he would. Surely they would spend more time apart if anything, so he wouldn't be writhing in his own skin, going absolutely crazy all the time. Doing everything in his power to keep from heaping certainly unwanted affection on her. 

 

Right? 

 

Blowing out a breath, Reyes heaped his blood-soaked body armor in the corner, and scooped up his clean coat. Opening the door—and nearly barreling into the angel waiting right there for him. Her eyes bore into his being, a vulnerability there that Reyes wasn't sure he had ever seen before. Every nerve in Reaper's body prickled as he clutched his fresh coat in his claws, keeping his grip on the fabric tight so his hands didn't roam the traumatized woman before him. 

 

"You would do this for me? Even after everything? Even though I am your prisoner?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but sounded so broken it was hardly recognizable as Angela. Reaper's eyes hit the floor, unable to make himself look at her any longer. A single grunt was all he could muster. 

 

But it seemed as though a single grunt was all Angela required to understand, because next thing Reaper knew, her arms snaked under his and she drew herself against him in a delicate embrace. Inhaling a sharp breath, Reyes stiffened, and noticed her recoil somewhat. Although she waited a second or two to ensure she wasn't in trouble—and even if she had been, Reyes was quite sure he was paralyzed anyway—Angela drew back into him, this time sliding her slender, pale hands up the body armor on his back as she leveraged herself closer with her forearms. 

 

Reaper wasn't sure if he was grateful for the layers of Kevlar and metal blocking her direct touch or not. 

 

In truth, he hated hugs. Always had, since he was a boy. Those awkward embraces that only existed as social currency, obligatory affection he wanted no part in. Reyes hated hugs, that is, until he had Angela's frame pressed softly into him with her restrained sobs of emotion heaving out into his chest. Only then did he notice that his hands still hovered in the air, as if McCree had just told him to reach for the sky. Really, he still wasn't sure what to do with his hands, and his muscles were too rigid to move either way. 

 

Angela tucked her head under his chin as her exhaustion and damage shredded her veil of properness. And even though she released no words, Reaper felt some kind of gratitude seep into his own broken soul from her. Perhaps it was a healing experience for the both of them. Glancing up to ensure no one _else_ was going to break through the door in a wild attempt to attack his angel, Reyes settled into the decision to simply allow her to meltdown on him. 

 

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't mind. 

 

 ********  

 

 _With a deep gulp, Angela's trembling hands outstretched to aim her weapon at the target down range. Gabriel could practically hear_ _her heartbeat from where he stood behind her,_ _and found himself grinding_ _his_ _own_ _teeth_ _in_ _an_ _t_ _icipation_ _. The longer she stood, attempting to aim properly, the more her hands wobbled._  

 

 _Reyes made a snap judgement, he had to act quickly to calm her before she bolted permanently. Reminding himself that this was for her own good, he stepped up behind her and reached around to cup her hands and steady them. Although they were both wearing ear protection_ _,_ _Reyes was quite sure he heard Angela squeak out a gasp._  

 

 _Bringing one hand back, he tipped her muting headphone up slightly and dipped his head to her ear so she could hear him._ _"_ _Stay calm._ _Pull the trigger when you're ready." And he replaced the muffler. Slipping his fingers around hers, Gabriel focused on steadying her insanely shaky hands and leveling her weapon. Angela seemed to_ _swallow down her nerves to an extent_ _, then re_ _shuffl_ _ed herself_ _and closed one eye._  

 

 _Once she regained an ounce of composure, Reyes took_ _stock_ _of her body language—and her body in general—as_ _she worked on running through her mental checklist._  

 

 _Okay, perhaps this had been better in theory than application. Because once Angela tilted into a braced stance_ _instead of a full-bodied wince_ _,_ _her_ _rear_ _pressed back into his hips_ _. A_ _nd oh, how badly he did_ ** _not_** _need_ _his pelvis anywhere near_ _her right now. Well, not on the range_ _._ _Maybe spread out on his bed_ _—F_ _illing his mind with_ _thoughts of_ _t_ _he go-to,_ _guaranteed_ _cock-block_ _of Reinhardt to keep calm, Gabriel watched over the top of the blond angel's head to better observe his student's work. His_ ** _subordinate_** _._  

 

 _His very much off-limits, young, naïve, fucking beautiful subordinate, with a mind as sharp as Shimada's_ _blade_ _and a soul as pure as he had ever witnessed_ _... That thought did nothing to extinguish the_ _lust roaring through his veins._  

 

 _And then she shot. With a jump and a squeal, Angela_ _attempted to_ _release_ _the gun and_ _withdraw, but Gabriel's clamped hands kept her in place. The only real thing she managed to do was_ _grind_ _farther_ _into him_ _and make him swallow a groan._ _Thoughts of_ _Reinhardt_ _,_ _Omnics_ _, paperwork, baseball,_ ** _anything_** _to quell his raging heat. Forcing some composure onto his face, Gabriel smiled when Angela looked up at him wide-eyed—and_ _beaming_ _._  

 

 _She had hit somewhere outside the largest ring, her shaking so severe that even his grip couldn't completely negate it, but she had truly fired. And the triumph_ _glowing_ _in her face was everything he knew it would be once she_ _conquered it._  

 

 _"See? If you learn to shoot accurately, a gun could become your greatest_ _ally. But you would never have to harm anyone, if that's your choice_ _." Angela's eyes clouded over with her thoughts, but then some other emotion filled her face... Perhaps she realized how she was tucked into his frame._ _"Ready to try by yourself?" He asked, with a silent hope that he would be freed—for her sake. Gabriel wasn't sure whether to_ _shudder or_ _pump his fist_ _when_ _Angela sheepishly shook her head in denial._  

 

 ********  

 

Oh, how the days had worn on him. Not only was there quite a controversy among the Talon agents—and leadership—about Reaper's brutal slaughter of his underling, but the incident forced him to keep Angela holed up for a few more days than he had planned. 

 

And the most intolerable part of it all had become Sombra's bitching and worrying. 

 

Five days it had been, five days of constantly having his coms tapped and a Hispanic accent shriek incoherent warbling into his ear. If Reyes didn't wear his earpiece, agents were tracking him down all day to inform him of Sombra's distress, monitors glitched and hollered about, her cries of concern rained through the hallways. All because the damn brat couldn't live with his word that Angela was safe. 

 

Finally, the hacker's voice entered Reaper's ear with a much smoother delivery. " _Hola_ Gabe," Of fucking course she went back to calling him that, "I've got a proposition for you today." 

 

With a growl, Reyes tapped the piece in his ear. "Sombra, stop bothering me." The chuckle he received unnerved him. 

 

"Oh, I think you're going to want to listen to me this time. I'd like to make a trade." 

 

Reaper sighed, then shot a glare to a passing agent who dared to give him a questioning look. "You can't buy time with Mercy. For the last time, she's safe. Get that through your thick skull." 

 

Sombra clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Now, is that any way to treat the young lady who has some very interesting footage of you? I would hate to have my finger slip and send this to someone who might just happen to _care_." Reaper's footsteps halted, his interest finally captured. A wicked little giggle escaped Sombra upon his silence. "Do I have your attention?" 

 

Several breaths passed before Reyes tapped his earpiece again. "Are you actually... Blackmailing me to get time with Mercy?" 

 

"Yes, yes I am." Her voice gained a steely tone Reaper had rarely heard, "You shouldn't have ignored me, Gabriel Reyes. Angie is my friend, and if I want to see her, you _damn well_ better let me." 

 

He had to admit, as far as threats went, Sombra's had much more impact than those of Widow. Granted, there wasn't much in his life that he cared about being broadcast anymore. His days in Overwatch were far behind him, and anyone who would truly give a shit already knew who—and what—he was. However, the fact that Sombra decided this situation was worth blackmailing him over didn't sit well. In reality, she ran a lot more of the show than everyone wanted to admit, but she was still technically below him in the chain of command. She shouldn't have been giving him orders, much less making demands. With a grit of his teeth, Reyes responded, "I'm listening. What do you have and what do you want?" 

 

Sombra purred. "Atta boy. Knew you'd pull your head out of your ass sooner or later." Reaper would have swore he heard her take a leisurely sip of whatever sugary beverage she inevitably had. Her attitude grated on him like few other things. "To answer your questions, I want you to stop hogging Angie's time. She's a grown woman, and no matter how much you wanna bang her, it's not cool to keep her away from her friends." 

 

" _Sombra_..." Reyes spat into the connection. "Know your place." 

 

"I know a lot more than my place, _Gabe_." She matched his tone, and another maniacal laugh poured from her. "I know everything about you. I know about your past life. Those unauthorized alterations really bit you in the ass, didn't they? And after all that, Jack still bested you?" Another disappointed clicking of her tongue. Reyes could have been dead for as piercingly silent as he became. She was trying to goad him, nothing more. "More importantly, or at least interestingly, I know why you're _really_ hoarding Angie's time." Reaper's hands suddenly gripped so tightly into fists, his claws dug into his palms as Sombra got to the heart of her threat, "It's amazing what cameras will tell you about a person. Like the way you used to watch her walk by. Or the way you woke up an hour early just to have coffee with her in the mornings. That's very romantic by the way, Gabe. Did you know that there's recent footage of you? I've seen how you touch her back when no one's around. How you kept tabs on her when you were keeping your distance. Hell, I've even got footage of you staking out Angela's whereabouts well before I ever needed her!" 

 

That last bit stuck him like a knife. How could she have— 

 

"How could I know that? You aren't so much of a dumbass that you don't know about satellites, right? Traffic cams? _Omnics_? Do you think Overwatch camera records are beyond my reach? Or private records. Medical records. Mercy's records... You outta see some of the things she backspaced about you. Things she wrote, but never had the guts to send. Would you like to know some of those things? Or, perhaps our superiors would like to know—" 

 

"Enough!" Reaper's bark echoed slightly through the hallways. It appeared he had underestimated how much Sombra liked Mercy's company, she was willing to have him skewered over this. While it seemed Sombra hadn't completely thought through her threat—as it would be a death sentence to Angela as well—that wasn't so much what bothered him. The little brat knew. She had seen. Seen what Angela did to him, seen his desire, seen his _weakness_. 

 

He also hadn't realized until then, but his feet had guided him to the medical room Sombra was in. Taking in a few quivering breaths of rage, Reyes stepped through and looked the disgustingly pleased hacker in the eyes. "If I let Mercy come and go as she pleases, what do I get?" 

 

Sombra cocked an eyebrow and her grin deepened. "You'll get the assurance that I won't give this footage to anyone—" 

 

"Not good enough." Two could play hardball. The way her smug smile dropped was worth it, too. They both knew he—apparently—still had control over what Sombra wanted. Her eyes narrowed at him, but the wisps of smoke slipping from his form seemed to tell her where his breaking point was. And it was close. 

 

"Ugh, _Fiiiiine_." Sombra hissed at last. "I'll give you the last half of the footage. The really damning stuff. Tell you what? I'll even throw in a spare clip I was going to hang onto for a rainy day. But, you can no longer remove my friends without my permission." 

 

Reaper gritted out, "You'll never give permission." 

 

"Exactly." Her smile returned. "Or at least until Angie says she wants to go. That's acceptable too." 

 

Biting back a groan, knowing how much Angela hated disappointing people, Reyes reluctantly nodded. "Fine. With one other condition." Sombra tensed and shot a snarl, "Footage of this nature could put your friend in a world of trouble too, right?" He watched the hacker's face soften, a sinking knowledge that he could use this to leverage her painting her face. Reyes had a much better plan in mind than simply shutting her up. "So if, say, you came across any other footage of this nature, I take it you won't let it beyond these walls?" 

 

Sombra's arrogant demeanor returned, a devilish little glint in her eye. "Why Gabe, are you asking me to clean up Talon surveillance for you?" Giving a hearty guffaw, she didn't wait for an answer, "Yeah sure, I can do that. I want this to be clear, I'm doing it for Angie, not you. You're just an ass."  

 

"As long as I get what I want, I don't give a shit for your reasons." Crossing his arms, Reyes waited expectantly, only to be met with a few slurps from a straw. "Well?" 

 

With an exaggerated sound of refreshment, Sombra held out her hands. "You think I'm going to give you what you want before I get what I want?" A waggle of her finger and a wink sent Reaper back out the door and down the hall in a fit of curses and threats. 

 

At least he had turned this situation around for the better. 

 

**** 

 

He brought Angela back—the poor woman was rather dazed from the lack of explanation. But what could he say? That he didn't need the world knowing about his only weakness, which apparently was her? No way in hell was Reyes about to have that conversation. He wasn't one for details anyways. So instead he just hollered at her from outside the door like a maniac and when Angela appeared looking concerned, he sped off while calling back for her to follow him. _Now_. 

 

Thankfully she obliged without question. 

 

Once they entered Sombra's room, the hacker quickly had a guard assist her in standing and hobbled over to Angela. Before the doctor could react, she was wrapped in a hug—which was likely in part just a way to help Sombra stay upright. 

 

"Angie! I've been so worried about you!" The girl almost sounded like there was a frog in her throat, as if genuine emotion was rising to the surface. "Are you okay, _mija_?" 

 

Angela maneuvered herself under Sombra's arm to brace her. "Oh my, you should not have put so much stress on yourself. I am glad your physical therapy is coming along well, but you need not fret over me, Sombra. The anxiety is not good for your body." 

 

The glare Sombra shot as she was carefully guided back to her bed was startling. "Someone tried to attack you and you expect me not to worry?" 

 

Her accusation seemed to drill into Angela, who released a defeated sigh. "Well, luckily nothing happened. Reaper stopped the whole thing before it could even start." 

 

Sombra grunted as she slid back into her normal place, "Yeah, yeah, we all know about that already." Settling in for a minute and having some water forced on her by Mercy, a sadistic gleam shone brightly in Sombra's eyes. "If you ask me, Reaper went a little easy on him. I mean, it was infinitely more creative than I would ever dream up, but still." Reaper's head snapped up and he snorted at the disapproval. What the hell else was he supposed to do exactly? He'd already flayed the man butterfly-style for the whole damn compound to see. Was Reyes supposed to tap dance on his liver just for good measure? 

 

Angela just awkwardly went about her work and tried not to think about it. Sombra seemed determined to ensure that didn't happen. "Wanna watch it?" She offered with a sip of some ginger ale, "Although it doesn't feel like enough, it's still satisfying. I've already seen it three times." Mercy was quick to shake her head dismissively, but Sombra grinned. "You sure? There's nothing like some good old fashioned Viking torture methods to brighten a day." She toasted her glass at Reaper, but he remained none too amused. 

 

Angela was gently refusing the offer and might have even turned a little green thinking about the kind of torture another human had endured—even a bottom feeder—but Reyes kept his focus on Sombra, expectantly. When Angela finally turned away to tend to her neglected station, Sombra brought up a panel with several files listed and quickly transferred them to Reaper's personal files. She shot him a wink as he spun and started out. 

 

"Oh Gabe," He paused and ground his teeth while allowing the little bitch to speak, "I would watch those sooner than later. They're quite entertaining." Reyes was halfway down the hall when he heard her add onto her statement, a bubbly, "I think _y_ _ou_ owe _me_ , now!" 

 

 ********  

 

Night had fallen over the compound, and with it came chilling sleet. Reaper walked Angela back to her—their?—room, a habitual evening stroll having become some odd kind of stress relief for them both. He tried to keep conversation with her to a minimum, but some nights Angela took up more talkative initiatives than others. Tonight had been one of those nights. He had lead them around an extra few laps just to give the woman a chance to flush her system of all the stories she had acquired during her time with Sombra. 

 

On some level, Reyes was almost glad he reinstated her visits with that brat, because the glow of laughter and warmth that had been dead in Angela a few nights ago once again shone brightly. More than a couple times, Reaper gave himself a firm mental shake and scolding when he caught himself staring at her. Darkened parts of his mind were sickened that he had allowed the ashes of his feelings for Angela to spark up embers, but other parts, raw, inarticulate, primal parts of him didn't care. Her words were like a balm to his deep wounds, her spirit like a beacon through the smoky darkness. She eased the burning in every nerve, and she made all those broken pieces seem a bit easier to scoop up. 

 

Besides, Reaper ended up getting an extra layer of protection—for the both of them—by simply allowing her to exist in the same space as Sombra. Although he had given her free reign to track his movements now, the knot that had buried itself in his stomach seemed to ease slightly, knowing Widow specifically wouldn't be getting the footage Sombra had. 

 

Speaking of... 

 

As Reyes left Angela behind in her—their? He needed to figure that out at some point—room, he recalled the footage that little hacker shithead had gifted him with. Stepping around the corner to the glass wall, Reyes took a deep breath and listened to the soft pattering of half frozen rain. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see what she gave him. It ate a hole in his gut to picture how he must look, shooting Angela small glances, using their situation as an excuse to touch her, constantly checking in on her... It was downright unnatural. 

 

But the dangling worm that got him to bite down onto the fish hook was this supposed spare clip Sombra had thrown in the mix. That clawed at his curiosity. And Reaper was no longer one for controlling his curiosity. 

 

Pulling a small panel out of his coat, the projection that materialized from it beaconed him for direction. Reyes hesitantly tapped into his personal folders, and began sifting through the documents to find which one was special. And damn, if that was _half_ of what Sombra had on him, then maybe he had cause for concern after all. That is, if she was even being honest about the dirt she had dug up. File after file, video after video he flicked through—until one caught his eye. Rather than a simple date and time for the name, there was a lone file that stood out. 

 

"GIBRALTAR" 

 

Reapers hand tightened on itself, gripping at the air a few times as if to crush the boulder that had settled in his chest. Sucking in a fortifying breath, and reminding himself that he already knew how it ended, Reyes tapped play and watched the last day of his relatively normal self play out through Overwatch surveillance. 

 

What he hadn't expected, was a nearly broken camera to hazily capture Angela falling apart as she desperately tried to save him. Lines passed through the footage, and their silhouettes were somewhat difficult to make out from such a distance, but watching her staff illuminate his body in her frantic attempt to revive him, then softly caress him when it failed left little room for doubt. It was Gabriel and Angela. She _had_ loved him that much. 

 

"What is that?" 

 

The soft accent made him jump, and immediately shut it off. Turning quickly, Reyes found a blanket wrapped Angela standing there, expression soft and gentle as ever. It took several moments to compute that she had asked him a question. "… Nothing." He grouched, before turning back towards the window and tucking the device back into his coat somewhere. In truth, Reyes was frazzled to his core. Angela's words seemed to spiral around his head, _"Maybe now you understand how it felt..."_ Her soul looked like it was being ripped from her damn body in that video, her desperation crumbling into numbed misery. Now, she stood here looking at him in that way that had always— 

 

Wait. 

 

"How did you get out?" Reaper shot an accusing glance her way. Angela didn't budge under his scrutiny for once, she probably expected to be questioned. 

 

Her soft giggle of embarrassment disarmed him. "I am sorry, truly. But I remembered your code, and I just wanted to..." Her voice trailed, her face dropping slightly as uncertainty crept in. "This was probably a bad idea." Her gaze fell next. 

 

Like watching a flower wilt in real time, Reaper sighed. "You already broke damn near every regulation we have, so you might as well spit it out, Angela." 

 

Her eyes raised back to meet his, but her mouth quirked in a sly little smile. "Angela?" It came out barely as a whisper, but it knocked Reyes back. He had called her by her given name, hadn't he? Twice in just a few days, as a matter of fact. All Reyes mustered was a small nod. Brushing it off for the time being, Angela returned to her point. "I simply realized I had not thanked you. Properly, at least." 

 

"Thank me? For what?" 

 

Eyeing him like he was the stupidest man in the world, Angela hunkered her blanket tighter around her shoulders and stepped closer with a raised eyebrow. "For saving me. I may not approve of your methods but I cannot imagine what would have happened if you had not intervened." Soon she was beside him, her blanketed arm even brushing his slightly as her gaze followed out the glass. 

 

"No need." Reyes huffed, crossing his arms and bracing his stance—as much to appear disconnected from her words as to keep himself disconnected from her. "I didn't do it so you could have an excuse to break containment." 

 

Swiveling, Angela was suddenly in front of him, in a precarious balance between his body and the windowed wall. Her eyes sparkled up at him, even in the dimmed moonlight. "Why _did_ you do it, then?" She softly questioned. 

 

How exactly was he supposed to answer that? 

 

Reyes wanted to back up, to scream at her, to throw her through the damn glass for daring this little game in the first place. But his frame wouldn't carry out any of those threats. If anything, Reyes found his body softening to Angela's encroachment as his arms fell back at his sides. Holding Angela's gaze, Reyes didn't allow his answers to spill out as easily as they had when he'd been irate. As he studied her face, a different response rose to Reaper's lips. "Why did you _really_ come find me?" 

 

The look in her eyes told him she wanted to bolt, so Reyes slowly braced an arm against the glass on the side she'd slinked up from. Angela's eyes never left his, just took on a new emotion—and perhaps his increased proximity had something to do with that. Or maybe it was just Reyes that recognized their added closeness. Thank the heavens for his mask or he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from claiming her mouth. In fact, Reyes felt a chill shoot down his spine when Angela's tongue peeked out to wet her lips, and only realized she was speaking when her lips began to move. 

 

"I just... I did not want our walk to end." Angela's words spilled out on a breath. Reyes felt a noise rumble in his throat more than consciously releasing it, but for a second, Angela looked as if she was worried she'd upset him. It wasn't anger heating his blood, unfortunately. Anger, he knew what to do with. Lust? That was undiscovered territory. Angela's features relaxed some when Reyes made no move, but she finally broke their eye contact. "I can go back to my room, though. As I said before, bad idea." Her little rueful smile tweaked his nerves. She couldn't go now. 

 

But Angela ducked under his arm as if Reyes was no more than an obstacle and stepped away. "Thank you again." She paused, "And not just for stopping the attack." Throwing him a look over her shoulder, her eyes spoke for her. She was thanking him for the comfort afterwards, like it had been some chore. Those hours she cried on him had been anything but a chore. "I do not know what I would have done without you Gabr—" Halting her words, Angela's face dropped and so did Reaper's shoulders. Why did she stop? Something told him that his name would sound much sweeter coming from her lips than Sombra's. 

 

Then images of Angela dangling in his clawed grasp, delicately touching his broken face and whispering his name assaulted him in a barrage. And as he had made to leave, he put a roadblock between Angela and the man she had once known. He didn't want her to access those places in him, they belonged in the morgue. Angela was never one to let death best her, though. 

 

She was, however, still clinging to Reaper's prior wishes, and he felt something inside himself breaking open. She couldn't _still_ be scared of him. He wouldn't allow that. Didn't want it. Clearing her throat, Angela turned back away from him to regain herself. "Ah... Sorry. Reyes." Her correction sent something inside him screaming. Everything that longed for her was on fire, dying under the stress. And now she was walking. "I will not break out again." 

 

Her gasp only slightly entered his consciousness as Reyes darted forward like lightning and spun her around by the wrist. Clamping his hands on her arms to keep her, Reyes peered down at the stunned face staring up at him. "Say it." His words came out on a growl, but Angela would have to deal with that. The urgency burning in him wouldn't wait to cater to delicate feelings. 

 

"What? Say what?" 

 

"My name, Angela." Reyes gave her a light jostle, as if to kickstart her brain. "Say my name." Angela was speechless for much longer than he would have liked, studying him, gauging him. Then she surprised him. Her no longer blanket bound fingers lifted to the edge of his mask and lightly brushed its angle. Reyes suddenly hated that mask for blocking Angela's touch. It was as if the physical barrier mirrored the barriers that had kept them apart for so long. 

 

Allowing her eyes to carefully roam the mask beneath her touch, Angela finally cupped his jawline, and met his softly glowing gaze. 

 

"Gabriel." 

 

Mask be damned. 

 

Before he could think twice about his actions, Reyes tore the cover from his face. The clattering it made when it hit the floor didn't even register, as he ducked his head and captured Angela's lips with all the pent up need for her of more than a decade.


	7. Ember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY!
> 
> For the time and the quality of this chapter, I'm not super confident. But I wanted to get it out there anyways. School's just been nuts, but I hope y'all still want more of this anyways. :)
> 
> Fun fact: I frequently get inspiration from music, and this chapter's title is both fitting for the themes and actually derived from the song "Ember City" by Mastodon, which I actually find quite fitting for Mercykill. (Also, the title of this fic comes from "Black" by Pearl Jam. ULTIMATE Mercykill song) Enjoy!  
> TINY EDIT: spelling error/grammar stuff

**CHAPTER SEVEN**  

 

Reyes tasted like charcoal, and his kiss was hardly gentle. But as one hand pressed into the small of her back, while the other dug into her hair—effectively freeing the scrunchy from her scalp—Angela couldn't help the tiny, breathy moan that escaped her throat. Almost unconsciously, she found her back arching into him, even with his body armor keeping them barricaded. 

 

Reyes only seemed to notice her movement, rather than the obstruction. 

 

Angela took in gasps of air when she could under the hard, rough barrage. Reyes kissed her like she was water in a wasteland, like he would die if he released her. She could feel his urgency, his frustration, and something that she dared not give a name to lest she be disappointed if she found out she was wrong. But it was there. An emotion that seemed to match all those stirring within her. Not to mention the raw lust, which was literally taking her breath away. 

 

For so long she had dreamed of this. She had imagined a thousand different scenarios, some gentle and sweet, some rough and sensual. Hell, Angela had even chastised herself on many occasions during her time as a captive for imagining such things. However, none of her daydreams could live up to what kissing Gabriel Reyes was actually like. 

 

While time seemed to still, it also didn't feel long enough. Maybe it never would be enough. For Angela, it certainly didn’t feel like she could ever get her fill. But a guttural growl left Reyes, and his mouth softened on hers, tongue retreated in a languid swipe. Like something had pricked his conscience. Slowing his oral assault, he lightly peppered her lips with kisses of a more tender nature. Although his rather animalistic nature hadn't left completely, as he eventually straightened, his teeth caught her lower lip and gave a tug before separating completely. 

 

For a few moments, neither spoke. The only sound in the abandoned corridor was their heavy breaths. Finally, Angela's eyes fluttered open and took in the sight of the man still embracing her. Reyes didn't look at her, his gaze fixed somewhere over the top of her head, but he seemed to be regaining his wits as he took long inhales to calm himself. Whatever the case, it gave her a chance to see his face again. 

 

When his features weren't twisted into a vicious scowl, she could see more fragments of Gabriel shining through them. Granted, the lighting still wasn't great, and she was sure that once she actually saw him without obstruction there would be another adjustment period. But here and now, gazing up at Reyes with half his face missing and wisps of smoke escaping the edges of his destroyed skin, all Angela saw was the man she had loved since she was eighteen. 

 

His glowing topaz eyes at last flicked down to meet her, and a tension entered his face. Angela's head tilted slightly upon his reaction, but she quickly pieced together that Reyes was likely unnerved by his exposed appearance. Reaching up, she pushed back his hood and gently raked her fingers through his hair. Her soft caress seemed to melt down his defenses, as Reyes leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. 

 

His eyes might have instilled fear in her once before, but looking into their amber depths as an internal light filtered through, Angela never wanted to look away. 

 

"I missed you." She whispered. 

 

When Reyes glanced down, away from her, a flash of the old Overwatch commander passed through his likeness. "I'm not the same, Angela." His words were rough and heavy, but she didn't miss the agony that hid beneath them. 

 

Allowing her fingers to settle at the nape of his neck, a tiny smile tugged the corner of Angela's mouth. "You are not as different as you think you are, Gabriel." 

 

His gaze met hers for a moment before she found herself matching another kiss. 

 

 ********  

 

 _Angela strolled through the hallways, sipping her coffee a_ _s_ _she glanced over some reports in her_ _other_ _hand_ _. She had scooped them up from her desk and taken to the rest of her business._ _There were_ _bigger things to worry about than paperwork._ _Genji's_ _progress, patient check-ins, work on her_ _nano_ _-tech... Much better than lousy paperwork._  

 

 _"If you dump hot coffee on me, you better be ready to give me some salve for the burn." Angela's lips quirked into a smile at the brash voice._  

 

 _Bringing her eyes up and slowing her pace, Angela threw a smirk Gabriel's way. "Well do not walk directly into me and you should survive the ordeal just fine." She retorted. Her smile dropped when she caught the look on his face._  

 

 _Quickly stepping into his way to stop him, Angela nearly did cause him to barrel into her. "Please Doctor, no need to throw yourself at me. You could just ask—"_  

 

 _"What is wrong?"_  

 

 _The jeer on Gabriel's tongue died, and with it any hint of humor in his otherwise dark expression. "Nothing that affects you." His voice lowered to match his appearance._  

 

 _Angela's stomach tightened. He made to move around her, but she rocked on her feet to stay in his path. "But it is bothering you," Her eyebrow drew upwards and she tossed him a probing stare, "Therefore it matters to me."_  

 

 _Gabriel's eyes softened momentarily. Then he quickly looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. Angela's glare became sharper, ready to rip the truth from him with or without his consent. Then, a bitter chuckle rumbled in Gabriel's throat, the sound sending ice through Angela's veins. "You haven't gone through those, have you?" He gestured to the files in her arms._  

 

 _Angela glanced down, then back to him and shook her head. "I have not. What will I find?"_  

 

 _Another laugh, even more bitter than the first_ _,_ _met her. As Gabriel finally stepped around her, he leaned down slightly closer to h_ _er_ _ear. "Why don't you dig through there and go congratulate Jack?"_  

 

 _The way Reyes spat his_ _com_ _rade's_ _name was startling. The confirmed order that he was no longer commander of_ _Overwatch_ _was gutting._  

 

 ********  

 

With a stretch and a yawn, Angela worked a kink out of her back and resumed jotting her notes. As she listened to Sombra drone on, she quietly filed through her mental to-do list to survive the day. Reyes had been pretty scarce after their little episode in the hallway, and shortly after he was deployed on a mission. That was a week ago. 

 

Angela tried to swallow against her tightening throat, but her mouth was absurdly dry. The thought of Gabriel on a dangerous mission sent two pangs spiraling through her. The first was sobering, he _was_ still Talon. Nothing in their circumstance had altered, only their emotions. The second was not an unfamiliar worry, what if something happened to him? Would Reyes survive without her there to heal him? 

 

With a roll of her eyes, Angela shook her head. Okay, maybe that thought was extreme. He had lived through plenty without her, and as a matter of fact, she wasn't entirely sure he could even be hurt anymore. Not by anything physical. 

 

"Oi, Angie, you in there?" The brash accent cut through her thoughts and brought Angela back to her obligated duties. Sombra had that usual expecting glare on her face, but Angela had quickly recognized that the girl was much softer to her than anyone else. At least there was still one friend around. 

 

Clearing her throat, Angela stepped over and offered her physical support to boost the hacker into a shaky stance. "Yes, sorry. I am afraid my mind was drifting." 

 

Sombra cocked an eyebrow and slanted a smug look Angela's way. "Your mind's been drifting a lot lately, hasn't it?" Her second eyebrow joined the other to form a suggestive, knowing waggle. Somehow, a tiny smile pressed its way through Angela's curtain of calmness. And Sombra was quick to hoot at her victory. "One of these days, you're going to actually talk to me about this shit instead of making me keep up with it like a telenovela." 

 

"Ah, but where is the fun in that?" Angela earned a giggle and decided that was an adequate place to leave their conversation. With a shake of her head, she began to help Sombra through her physical therapy. Carefully helping the girl to her walker, Angela guided her and stayed close for any necessary support. Their routine was familiar, her usual female guards would escort her—careful to never speak to her again—and then she would assist Sombra. Angela had grown quite comfortable in Sombra's company, but regretfully, she didn't long for the woman's companionship today. No, as the time went on, she craved a much more masculine presence, one that made her concerned for her morals, else she forfeit them for him. 

 

One whose touches, glances, and kisses pushed her dangerously close to losing her self-control. 

 

Glancing up, Sombra's attention seemed pricked. "Someone's coming." She mused. Angela followed her gaze toward the door hopefully, only to be disappointed when her guard came bursting into the room. Sombra had gotten quite good at predicting comings and goings, but not even she was clairvoyant enough to know when Reyes was coming back. 

 

With a pant, the guard braced her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Broken pieces of sentences poured out among the heaves, and Angela helped Sombra into a sitting position on her bed before holding up her hand to stop the breathless barrage. "Slow down. What do you need?" 

 

With a gulp of air, the woman finally met Angela's eyes. "Reaper's back." Angela's heart gave a flip. Then her stomach plummeted. "I think he's been... shot or... something. I—I can't even tell, all that black he wears." 

 

"If you don't even know, why are you telling us?" Sombra snapped, shooting a glare at her subordinate. 

 

Angela, for one, was glad that the woman had said something. The guard's face dropped, and she regained a bit of composure. "Well, it's just that something isn't right. I mean, I know he can turn into a smoke monster at will, but... He isn't usually _so_ smoky. And he's kind of—" 

 

The woman released a small shriek when the man in question plowed into the room, effectively cutting her off. Reaper glowered down at her, making the guard throw a quick salute before scuttling off. Turning his sharp gaze to the other two women, he assessed them. 

 

Well, mostly Angela. 

 

The guard had been right, something was definitely wrong. His coat seemed to have unusual charred portions, and smoke seeped off of his body as if he were infuriated. Yet when he spoke, no such irritation existed. "Everything okay?" He inquired casually. 

 

Odd. Certainly odd. Something had happened, and Angela was going to get down to the bottom of it. Sombra piped up, "Everything's been fine, _dad_. Chill the hell out, ever since you gutted someone like a jack-o-lantern, Angie could do pretty much anything and no one would say a word." 

 

Angela highly doubted that, but she had certainly been given a wider—albeit more hostile overall—berth. But she gave a nod. A cheeky grin snapped onto Sombra's face. "Uh-oh, I hope you aren't triggered that I said _Jack_." 

 

Reaper rose his clawed finger and jabbed it toward her. "I'm not in the mood for your shit, Sombra." He turned to leave, but Angela noticed the slight groan that escaped him as he refrained from touching his side. After regaining himself, he began a somewhat ginger stride toward the door. 

 

Oh no he didn't. 

 

Enough was enough, Angela lurched forward and snatched his wrist. As if on instinct, Reaper spun as if to strike and defend himself, but the sight of her quickly defused his aggressive posture. Angela was proud, she barely flinched at his hostile nature. "You are hurt in some way. Let me take a look at you." Her tone left no room for argument, but Reyes tried anyways. 

 

Shaking off her hand, he grumbled something about _"fucking immortality"_ , and moved to continue with his previous advance. Angela planted herself in front of him and rested her fists on her hips. Giving him a defiant stare, Reyes finally sighed. "I don't need you treating me. Especially not with _it_ —" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward Sombra, "—sitting there watching me." 

 

Sombra's maniacal laugh only briefly registered in Angela's mind as she thought about his disagreement. Bracing a hand on his stomach to stop him when he tried once more to push by her, Angela showed a bright smile. "I can help with that." 

 

 ********  

 

 _"Jack, what is the meaning of this order?"_  

 

 _Her eyes were wide and concerned. Angela just hoped her shattered heart didn't shine through them too much. Judging by the look on Jack's face, that hope was dying too._  

 

 _Jack ran his hands over his face in an attempt to clear his wariness away—and failed miserably—before he met her gaze. "Doctor Ziegler, I truly am sorry that you weren't informed sooner. I assumed you were aware already. But the order means just what it says. Reyes is going to command a spec ops division of_ _Overwatch_ _and I'm taking his current position."_  

 

 _Hearing it from his mouth didn't make it any easier to swallow. "What does that mean for..." Me?_  

 

 _For Reyes?_  

 

 _For_ ** _Overwatch_** _?_  

 

 _Breaking some of his formality, Jack placed a sympathetic hand on Angela's shoulder and tried to give her a reassuring smile. Unfortunately, that smile didn't reach his eyes, but Angela found more comfort in the pain she found in them. It matched her own. "Don't worry, nothing changes for you. Nothing you'll notice anyways." If only that were true. Angela had that sickening feeling that she would notice some very massive changes._  

 

 _One in particular. A tall, handsome, gritty one with a voice like molasses._  

 

 _"You'll still treat all of the agents, even the_ _Blackwatch_ _ones." Jack continued, snapping Angela's thoughts away from Gabriel and back to... Well, Gabriel. "_ _Genji_ _is still under your care, and I'm sure McCree will need to be pieced back together more than ever." The humor in his tone still didn't match his posture._  

 

 _Angela numbly nodded, gave some pleasantries, and scurried off. If her heart ached this badly, she couldn't imagine what_ _Gabriel_ _was going through._  

 

 ********  

 

Turning toward the hall and giving a piercing whistle, Angela only waited a few moments before several guards swarmed the hall. Popping in through the door, they initially looked around for danger, but quickly straightened at the sight of Reaper, as if they had just been tricked into their deaths. Angela quickly smiled before they tore out. "Hello there! Thank you for coming so quickly. I am in need of your assistance." 

 

Reaper snapped a look her way as if he were offended—why hadn't she asked him for help?—but Angela ushered him into her usual seat at the other end of the room. "You do not need to be reaching about when I do not know the extent of your injuries." She said softly as she plunked him down. Spinning toward the three cowering agents, she eyed the tallest of the bunch and pointed. "You," She gestured for him to follow her as she grabbed one of the clean sheets piled in a basket behind Sombra's bed, "Tack this to the ceiling, this way." Another gesture for clarity as to its direction. 

 

The man looked between her and Reaper, horrified to be in such a position. But then, Reaper's sharp tone barked out. "Did she stutter, or are you brain damaged?" With a start, the guard hurried over and took his assigned corner. His height gave him the advantage over Angela to reach the ceiling if he strained. With a grin of triumph, Angela ordered the other two to find something—nails, thumb tacks, anything—they could use to keep the makeshift curtain in place. 

 

Within ten minutes, she effectively had the room divided to offer privacy from the overly amused hacker and Reyes. It was for the best anyways, Reyes was quite uncomfortable showing his, er, _true self_ to anyone who would be living longer than a few minutes. So once the room was cleared of their visitors, Angela grabbed some supplies and stepped behind the curtain to assess the damage to Gabriel's body. 

 

Sombra's giggled complaints followed after her, warning that if they started to fuck, she would hobble over and rip that curtain down. 

 

Arranging her tools on the so-called desk beside them, Angela finally turned her attention to Reyes. He watched her every move, but at least he wasn't fighting her anymore. Well, he might now that she needed him to let her under his clothes. 

 

Angela's mouth suddenly went dry. 

 

"I will, ah, need to see your injuries." She hedged, sending him a meaningful look. Reyes just stared at her for a long moment, his expression hidden behind that infernal mask, before he carefully started to strip off his coat. Another groan rolled through his throat, and Angela instantly stepped to his side to assist him. 

 

In the proximity, she got a better idea of his injuries. It looked like something burned his clothes. An eyebrow arched on her face as she started aiding in removing his body armor. "What happened? Was there a fire?" 

 

"No." Reyes kept his voice lowered, to add to their privacy. Angela was about to pry further, but he glanced up at her face as if he could read her thoughts. "You won't like the answer." 

 

Angela swallowed, but continued with her efforts to rid him of his garb. "Perhaps, but at least I would know what to expect." She matched his tone, and tried to keep herself professional. When she made it to his charred under layer, a shirt that morphed to his frame like a second skin, professionality seemed to be the last thing on her mind. Corralling a shuddered breath, Angela made to check her instruments one last time, even as he hissed upon removing his shirt on his own. She _needed_ the extra seconds to mentally prepare herself. 

 

"I was electrocuted." The simple statement threw a rock into Angela's stomach. Suddenly, lust didn't seem to be her biggest concern. _Winston_. It was the most likely explanation, especially with the extent of the burning. There were few things that could dish out so much damage to Reyes, and Angela was willing to bet it wasn't a freak lightning strike. But how had Winston fared? 

 

She didn't ask, simply turned and regarded his battered form. Reaper's skin was just as broken up on the rest of his body as it was on his face. It was as if his skin was covered in massive lesions, but instead of seeing muscle beneath, there was only that dark, smoky entity. However, even such a gruesome appearance did little to detract from his stature. The muscles that did face her effectively had Angela's throat closing up again. 

 

Or perhaps it was the way static still clung to the edges of his broken flesh, dancing through his vapor like a thunderstorm—a little parting gift from the scientist— that had her throat constricting. But a parting gift before... _What_? 

 

Hunkering down some, Angela forced herself to view his status from a medical perspective. There were so many warring emotions flowing through her. She wanted to wail on Reyes and demand to know what he had done to Winston, she wanted to sob for their situation and beg for him to reconsider his life as a terrorist... And damn it all if she didn't want to throw herself at him and thoroughly explore his body without the pretense of doctoring. Why did Reyes have to look like that when she was so infuriated with him? 

 

Carefully, Angela grabbed a pair of gloves and examined them for holes. Gabriel was somehow holding a charge—a fascinating development—and Angela was determined not to accidentally shock herself while treating him. She could feel his eyes on her as she tentatively touched his in-tact skin, the tension hanging around them making the air thick. Grabbing some damp gauze, she gently dabbed at his charred flesh, but distinguishing what was recent and what was normal became a challenge. His muscles gave a slight twitch, like he had been sparked again, but quickly Reyes held still once more. 

 

There wasn't much she could do with so little supplies to treat wounds like burns, but she could easily soothe and bandage them. As she worked, Reyes watched her. Angela even thought she felt his hand brush her thigh when she bent around him slightly to work on his—sculpted, extremely well-muscled, completely maddening— shoulder. 

 

A twinge of guilt twisted Angela's stomach. Even if her intentions had been pure, _she_ did this. She brought him back, made him this vengeful psychopath—did all of his torn skin hurt? What if it did?—And now, for all she knew, Winston could have been dead for days because she just couldn't let go. 

 

Finally, Reaper's chest rose in a deep breath, drawing her gaze to the broad, scarred planes, before his voice growled. "Get that look off your face already. The fucking monkey is fine." 

 

Angela froze. Was that true? She hated not being able to trust Gabriel. Straightening, she looked down on his masked face. Not good enough. Her fingers raised to the edges and carefully pried the mask off without a protest. She needed to see him to be sure. Reyes barely acknowledged the change, his attention squarely on her. A breath caught in her lungs at the look he gave—while it was arduous to differentiate the black around his eyes from that of his pupils, she could still tell that his eyes were dilated. Hell, the heat in his gaze alone would have given away his mental state, with or without pupil dilation. Well, at least she wasn't the only one whose mind was in inappropriate places. 

 

But Angela forced those thoughts back down. Bigger issues to address. "Are you sure?" It was little more than a whisper. "Are you _sure_?" 

 

Reyes gave a single nod, holding her gaze. " _I'm_ the one who took a beating, thank you very much." He hissed. Angela searched his eyes for a long minute, burrowing into his psyche with her penetrating stare, stealing his secrets from him. But he let her. Reyes was a brilliant liar, yet Angela was an even better truth sleuth. He wasn't lying. 

 

That shuddered breath finally escaped Angela, and her hands came up to cup Gabriel's face. " _Danke_." She breathed, hardly sure what else to say. It sounded so stupid, she was positive he wouldn't have spared Winston for her sake, but she couldn't help the sentiment. Her world, for the time being, hadn't collapsed. Bending, she touched a tender kiss to his lips, letting the contact speak for her. How relieved she was that Winston was alive. How relieved she was that he, Reyes, was alive as well. How much she longed for intimacy like this without being a captive in a Talon base. How much she longed for _him_. How she always had and always would. 

 

Reyes allowed her to direct their kiss, not forcing more on her than she wanted. But oh, if he only knew how much she wanted. Of course, not with Sombra right on the other side of a strung up bed sheet, and that thought drew Angela back before her hands roamed any further than his neck. Reyes tried to keep his expression neutral, a skill he had never excelled at. In fact, his eyes scanned up her form as they made their way to meet her gaze, and Angela was almost bowled over by how much his feigned neutrality gave away. 

 

If this was the look he gave her when he was controlling himself, what would it be like if he let go of that control? 

 

A shiver raced up Angela's spine—that, and Gabriel's hands more firmly found the backs of her legs. Travelling slowly from her knees, up her thighs, making her fingers clench his shoulders as she waited for them to travel higher. Inch by inch they climbed her long limbs, his possessive hands perfectly communicating what they wanted... But they stopped. Sliding just under the curve of her backside, his fingers just barely tightened on her, and his gaze hardened. Reyes was forcing himself to stop again. 

 

Stupid man. Didn't he understand she had waited for this just as long as he did? What was wrong with him? Angela was grateful that he didn't release her, but, "You know I do not like to be teased, Gabriel." 

 

His stomach tightened at the use of his name, and his grasp on her legs tensed as well. "I'm not trying to tease you, Angela." 

 

"Then why are you acting the way you are? Kissing me like you did and avoiding me... This," She pointed at his hands with a small smile. "It feels an awful lot like teasing." 

 

Reyes shook his head and took another survey of her body. "No. I'm not teasing you. After your... ordeal, I don't want to push you." His eyes finally disengaged her and fell somewhere to the side. "I know it's too soon." 

 

Ordeal...? Oh! Of course. She was almost sexually attacked, a fact she tried to put out of her mind for days afterwards. _Still_ tried to put out of her mind in the night hours. But Reyes was different, she knew he would never do something like that. Moreover, she knew he would never take advantage of her vulnerable state for his own gratification. 

 

The thought of _Gabriel's_ mouth on her didn't send ice through her veins, it exhilarated her, the thought of _Gabriel's_ body pressed up against her didn't make her sick, it made her swoon, and under _Gabriel's_ touch? Well, she was mentally begging him to grab her ass, so that should serve as proof that she thought of the experience much differently. Besides, Gabriel had been the one who saved her. Surely he knew she didn't hold any association— 

 

Only Reyes didn't know. That's why he refrained. He didn't want to hurt her, frighten her, force her, traumatize her, and he still obviously saw himself as doing just that. With the thought, Angela only loved him more. How could this man be so brutal, attack and murder people—and make attempts on the life of one gorilla scientist as well—even terrorizing her at one point, and then turn around and treat her so gently? Reyes was an enigma, a severely tortured enigma. 

 

As his hands fell away, leaving her to bandage the scorched parts of his skin—even as they were healing before her very eyes—Angela gently bit her lip at the tenderness he strived for. It had never been more clear that the Gabriel Reyes of old was alive and well before her. 

 

 ********  

 

 _Angela found Gabriel on the roof. He sat silently,_ _stoically, watching the last traces of sunlight disappear over the horizon. His back was to her, but she could practically see the steam_ _emanating_ _from his seething form._  

 

 _Stepping closer, Angela wrapped her arms around her middle. "Reyes?" No response. He was deathly still, as if he resigned himself to be a gargoyle. Angela moved in even closer and raised her voice slightly. "_ ** _Reyes_** _?"_  

 

 _With a jump, Gabriel's hand reared with a knife as he turned, ready to launch the steel toward his perceived adversary. His eyes blazed fire for a moment before it registered who Angela was. The_ _anger_ _drained from Gabriel's face. "Fuck! Doc_ _,_ _I could have killed you!" He roared, sheathing his knife and returning to his previous posture. "You shouldn't sneak up on people."_  

 

 _"I did not." Angela breathed, swallowing down her nerves and tentatively creeping in beside him. "You were simply not paying attention."_  

 

 _Gabriel didn't reply, just huffed. "What do you want?"_  

 

 _It wasn't like him to throw so much ice her way. But Angela supposed she would probably be bitter too. "I just wanted to make sure you are_ _okay_ _—"_  

 

 _"I don't want your damn pity, and if that's all you've got, you can leave."_  

 

 _Angela's knees nearly buckled. There was a long silence between them, spanning to minutes, perhaps longer. Angela bit back tears before_ _carefully lowering herself onto the ledge beside him, facing the opposite way._  

 

 _"Reyes," Her voice was soft, "I understand it hurts._ ** _I_** _hurt so badly_ ** _for_** _you, so the pain you must be feeling is_ _unfathomable." His shoulders started to slump, a defensiveness exiting his posture. "If I were you, I would not push away your allies."_  

 

 _At last his gaze met hers, vulnerability brimming in their dark depths. Angela held for a moment, then pushed off the wall and started for the door._  

 

 _"Doc_ _?_ _"_  

 

 _Pausing, Angela threw a glance his way. The words on Gabriel's tongue died, holding her gaze a little longer instead before Angela left him._  

 

 ********  

 

Angela slumped down onto her—Gabriel's? She didn't know—bed, drained from her work. She'd been graced with a brief respite from her duties with Sombra, and as much as she enjoyed having friendly company, she savored the blessed silence. A sigh escaped her. The days were blurring together, the only landmarks of each being the times she saw Reyes. 

 

Thankfully, Reyes hadn't been quite so avoidant over the last few days, as they had resumed their nightly walks. Now, there were many more gentle touches, caresses, even some stolen kisses. A smile crept onto Angela's face. Some kisses were steamier than others. 

 

Reyes had always been a man of deep passion. It was one of the first things that drew Angela to him. He was passionate about things he believed in, about what he thought was right, and as she was rapidly discovering, about _her_. He poured that intensity into every interaction. She had never experienced anything like it. It was glorious. 

 

But a frustration rose up inside her. In his treasuring of her, Reyes withheld the thorough intimacy Angela craved so badly. They had discussed it, and Angela tried to gently press the issue that he didn't have to handle her with kid gloves... But he continued to do so. Sure, he would ravage her mouth, kiss her so hard her lips would develop a softly swelled pout, get her breathless and desperate for his tongue to explore a lot more than her own. Yet at the end of each fierce display of how badly he wanted her, Reyes would withdraw. Shutter himself away. Breathe deeply and regain his control. Last night, she had even asked him to keep going. Still, the stubborn mule said he wouldn't want her to regret it and left her. 

 

His damn protective streak was driving her crazy, in more ways than one. Angela was going to have to confront him about the subject, when they weren't in a heated situation, so he would understand that it wasn't just in-the-moment. Another sigh escaped her. She hadn't wanted to be quite so... blunt. Practically begging him to have sex with her wasn't at the top of her to do list, it sounded so needy and, well, not Angela-like. Plus, she had no idea how much further that would complicate their circumstances. She wanted it to be natural, without a cloud of captivity hanging over them, and because they both _wanted_ it, not because she needed to somehow convince him of her mental stability. Another long sigh rolled from her body. 

 

"You trying to huff and puff and blow the base down?" Angela startled at Gabriel's voice, but the teasing tone as he strolled into the room calmed her nerves. 

 

"If only it were so easy, eh?" She flashed a bright smile his way and was sure she earned a smirk as he crossed to the closet. 

 

Reyes opened it and began rummaging. "I'll be out of your hair in a minute, just need ammo." 

 

God only knew why or what he needed more ammo for—or what he had already spent ammo on—but Angela didn't question. Odds were, some poor agent didn't mop a floor properly and Reaper's temper got riled. She had already seen some such events play out before. 

 

But she wanted to soak in his company. And maybe get that awkward conversation out of the way while she was at it. Perhaps if she brought it up now, when they were both busy, he would think it over and act later when it _would_ be natural— 

 

"Ready to get back or do you need a few more minutes?" His voice jerked her from her thoughts and Angela looked up to the mask glaring down at her. 

 

"Um, sure. I am ready." She stood and Reyes moved for the door, "But first—" He opened the door and half turned to regard her, "—there is something I want to talk about. More something I wish to tell you, actually." Angela practically saw the eyebrow cock behind Reaper's mask as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his full attention. 

 

Angela gulped. "I, ah, wanted you to know that... I... Well, I've given it a lot of thought and all and... I..." 

 

"Would you rather tell me when you actually know what you're trying to say?" His jeer came out in that smug, teasing way of his, but it spurred the words off Angela's tongue. 

 

"Stop holding back." 

 

Reyes reared back slightly and his arms fell. 

 

Well, at least it was out, if not somehow both blunt _and_ vague. "I—I want you. Physically. Intimately. And I understand your concern for me, and I appreciate it, but it—" 

 

"You don't want me to hold back." 

 

Angela blinked. "No. I do not." 

 

"You're sure?" 

 

"I am quite positive." Angela gulped, she could feel his gaze boring into her with such force, she could barely meet the dim glow beginning to sear from his eyes. "And I am glad it is cleared up now." With a punctuating nod, she exhaled a pent up breath and moved toward the door with the hope that it would signify the end of their conversation. Throwing him a smile as she passed, Angela expected Reyes to follow and escort her as usual. Sure, she knew they were both thinking about it and not about work, but that was the point. The work defused the awkwardness. 

 

Instead, Angela barely got a foot out the door before a powerful hand clamped on her arm and spun her around. Surroundings swirled as Angela found herself roughly pressed against the wall outside the entrance, blinking against such suddenness. 

 

With an arm braced beside her and the other hanging limply, Reaper's face lowered close, a familiar light illuminating his mask's eye sockets. "You really don't want me to hold back?" His voice was huskier than usual, gravelly... lustful. 

 

Angela took in what data she could, given the barrier between his face and hers, and shook her head. "I do not want you to hold back, but—" She was cut off in a much more pleasant way, when Reaper's free hand slid up her stomach, palm flat on her, edging its way up and scraping her shirt hem with it. 

 

" _Really_?" He purred, his clawed digits slipping between her breasts and splaying across her sternum. 

 

Angela could hardly think much less speak. Her muscles rolled under his touch, solidifying and melting in the same breath. But she shook some consciousness into herself and forced her lungs to breathe. "Y—yes, but I do not know if now is the best time. I mean..." She threw a glance down the hallway, "Someone could come by. Hear. _See_." His hand left, but when her eyes came back, he hadn't removed it because he relented. 

 

He removed it so he could also remove his glove. 

 

Pressing back into her, Gabriel's face tipped to her ear while his bare hand slowly spread out across her stomach once more. "If you've changed your mind already," _Oh_ , his hand was sliding _downward_ now, grazing over the fabric of the sweatpants she had borrowed from Sombra, "Then say so." Angela gasped when Reyes dipped his fingers into the waistband, and continued creeping down over her skin. 

 

"I...ah..." Her mind knew this was dangerous, there would be hell to pay if someone found them. But her body arched in anticipation, her hands grasped the edges of his coat. She wanted nothing more... Just not _in the middle of the hall_. 

 

Then his fingers found their goal and a moan shivered out of Angela's lips. Her head tipped back against the wall as his fingers eased their way to their destination, and his palm pressed against her to apply more of the sweet friction she craved while he worked. Angela's eyes fluttered, her mind clouded, concerns began to fade away and left only Gabriel. 

 

His fingers rocked, building a slow, steady rhythm. With each thrust, his palm grinded against her delicate flesh, spearing her with pleasure. Angela barely stood a chance with Gabriel's brand of persuasion. 

 

Then the movement stopped. No, no he couldn't stop now! All at once, Reyes disengaged his hand from her in a dragging motion that made Angela quiver with sensitivity. But his hand didn't leave for good, only hovered. Now he really _was_ teasing her. "If you don't want this," His hot breath fanned across her neck from under his mask, "Tell me." 

 

Angela's brain was scrambled eggs. 

 

"Say it, Angela. Tell me if you don't want this. You know I'll stop right here and now." 

 

A needy whine rolled out of her throat as her breath came out jagged. "I... I just..." Her hips arched in a fruitless attempt to regain his touch, but he kept her from reaching her goal. The wretch even made a tiny brush of contact across her, just to punctuate how well he knew her desperation, only to reject her attempts to feel his hand more fully. 

 

" _Tell me_." 

 

"I—I cannot." It came out on a frustrated moan, Angela's eyes shutting as she lightly bumped her head back against the wall. Why wouldn't he just give this to her? Embarrassment burning in her cheeks, Angela found her words. "Just—just not here. It is too risky. Please Gabriel." 

 

Reyes growled. "You said don't hold back. This is me not holding back." His mask lightly scraped the sensitive skin on her neck and drew out another lustful moan. "I'll give it to you right here, as is. Do you want it or not?" 

 

Angela shuddered. So that was it. He liked this. Got off on taking her in public. Got off on making her beg. Lightly licking her lips and letting her eyes slide open to view the ceiling, her practicality battled her desire. She knew she had won the war, Reyes had broken and was clearly willing to gift her with blessed physical intimacy. But that didn't help her now. Here. Pressed against the wall with Gabriel's hand in her pants. 

 

Her lust won. "I _need_ you _now_." She breathed. 

 

All at once, his hand thrust back into its rightful place and an ecstasy filled sigh passed through Angela's lips. Her hips ground more fully into his palm as he worked her, a satisfied groan rumbling from his throat. 

 

" _Good_ girl." When Reyes said that to her as he held her in the alley, condescension and threat gleaming in his voice, Angela had felt terrified and enraged. When Reyes said it to her now, growling low and hot into her ear, Angela nearly peaked just from the sound alone. 

 

Her hands pawed at him, twitching slightly as they clung to his shoulders. Angela's body was stiffening, her breath growing shallow, and soft gasps of his name hung on her lips while her head tossed back and forth. 

 

Gabriel pulled back from her neck, and his free arm curled more securely around her to support the woman's shaking body. From the periphery of her perception, Angela could feel his eyes on her, watching her writhe under his touch, her carefully cultivated proper exterior falling apart. She couldn't bring herself to feel self-conscious anymore, she had prayed way too long for this exact thing to feel shy once it was happening. 

 

Let him see what he did to her. Let him see how completely undone he made her, and how much love he brought her. Let him see how much she craved him. 

 

Angela's breath quickened, and her hands trembled. She could feel the buildup ready to explode, ready to give her the release she so very badly needed. And then came his voice. 

 

"Let go for me." Oh God, that gravelly timbre, " _Stop holding back_ , Angela." 

 

Lights blared in her head, her eyes slammed shut, her mouth dropped in a silent scream. Body arching and fingers twitching, Angela trembled through the first half before her digits clamped down on his shoulders and her muscles quaked through the second half. 

 

When the seemingly endless waves coursing through her veins began to ebb, Angela's grip on Reyes turned from clawing to clinging, attempting to keep herself upright when her body sagged in relief. 

 

Reyes tightened his arm around her waist to aid her balancing efforts, and his hand gently worked her through the aftershocks before sliding free from her body and extracting from her sweatpants. Angela's form was weak, limp, and completely satisfied. 

 

Gabriel's bare hand lifted to his mask, nudging it up a bit with his thumb, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I needed that too." He whispered, sending another jolt through her over stimulated nerves. Then, all at once, he stepped away and made her catch herself. 

 

Angela quickly tipped her weight back against the wall and sought him with a bewildered gaze. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin glowing softly from a thin layer of sweat, and she panted. Gabriel's amber gaze swept over her, savoring her thoroughly pleasured appearance. All the while, his thumb swirled slow circles over his fingers, relishing the feel of her still on his hand. 

 

"You've got to get back to work, Doctor Ziegler." His tone was feigned sincerity, and a wicked little grin spread across his face. "Don't want to keep Sombra waiting." 

 

Sombra. Talon. Prisoner. Of course. Angela's surroundings filtered back in and she found some strength. Reaching out, her hand splayed across Gabriel's chest to halt him. "Wait, what about you?" Her voice sounded breathy even to her as she cast a meaningful glance toward his belt. 

 

A chuckle rumbled in Gabriel's throat as he pressed another small kiss into her hairline. "Later." That was all he said before replacing his mask and starting down the hall. Angela quickly scraped up what little shards of her wits remained and hurried after him before she got left behind.


	8. Burdens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how this chapter turned into a gigantic sex-fest, but hey, I go where the story takes me. Let me know if y'all think I need to up the rating. :'D
> 
> Also, THANK YOU ALL SOOOOOO MUCH! I can't thank you all enough for your unbelievably kind comments, I'm astounded by how nice you all are. Hopefully my little project here continues to entertain. Every kudos, comment, and bookmark encourages me to continue and lets me know y'all genuinely like what I'm putting out here. The next chapter will actually have one of the first ideas I conjured for this story, but have been waiting to see where it felt natural to put in. Exciting.
> 
> That's not the only thing getting "put in" the next chapter. ;) *smacked*
> 
> Until then, enjoy a whole lot of hanky-panky. ;3 (EDIT: Consistency, grammar)

**CHAPTER EIGHT**  

 

He had felt great hunger in his lifetimes. A burning, gnawing at his guts, to be temporarily satiated only with a consumed soul. However, in all his years of starving, Reyes had never hungered for anything the way he did for Angela when her body clamped down on his fingers. 

 

His angel was the most stunning thing the world had ever produced. 

 

Reyes cursed his body armor, as his thoroughly aroused state was actually painful against the confining Kevlar. How he wished he could have thrown Angela onto his—her? Well, soon it would be _their_ —bed and given her much more than a little quickie in the hallway. Fun as it was, it wasn't even close to enough. 

 

Unfortunately, he really couldn't put off his superiors any longer. If Reyes had it his way, he'd take Angela on every flat surface available until she passed out from how many damn orgasms she had, but as it stood, he wasn't sure what the rest of the day might hold. He'd been rather roughly ordered to report, and he had a feeling he knew what subjects were about to come up. 

 

Not only was his mission a failure, but he was keeping an Overwatch operative as a pet for far longer than he stated he would. Not a good combo if one was trying to avoid an ass-chewing. Besides, Reyes figured making the doctor scream six ways to Sunday in broad daylight might not be the best way to maintain discretion. 

 

Perhaps guilt still pricked the corners of his mind as well. 

 

So, as it was, Reyes released the doctor rather sharply, corralling a groan as she looked up at him with glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and harsh breaths. Angela was stunning. Her offer to aid him with his uncomfortable cod piece situation didn't help his resolve, but it certainly gave him plenty of mental images... 

 

Images of his destroyed, tainted, undeserving form under Angela's precious touch, Angela's warm mouth followed him through the halls. And that was sobering. His guilt wretched a bit harder. 

 

Angela gave a shy smile as she slipped in through the medical doors, a private, intimate little smile that spoke many words for her. She was happy. At least for now. Even if she didn't have her freedom, Angela was happy to have him. 

 

Reyes swallowed. Suddenly the pressure of what some kind of a relationship actually meant struck him harder than a bolt from Winston's over-sized shock stick. Somehow, Angela's smile communicated that he held her heart in his clawed hands. How in the hell that happened was a mystery, but Reyes had to shake out his fingers to remember he didn't _physically_ hold Angela's heart. Only figuratively. And yet, labelling it "figuratively" didn't relieve the weight of that privilege from Reaper's unworthy shoulders. One little public act of sexual activity and a whole emotional can of worms opened. 

 

Though damn if that public sex act wasn't fun. 

 

 ********  

 

Reaper entered into the communications room, where three or four agents normally kept up on current missions, contact with international Talon branches, and tracked locations of important assets. Today, however, the busy room was vacated. 

 

Odd. 

 

These were the agents that never abandoned their posts, not even for a bathroom break. They were too valuable for breaks. Some instinct kept Reaper's hand on his hellfire's hilt, his senses rapidly shifting from the doctor he'd left behind to his surroundings. 

 

Empty. Abandoned, more like it. The only illumination in the room was the still running equipment, and the air had gained a chill. A coffee cup sat ownerless, cold on the main console, while another cup of some substance lay dropped on the ground and almost completely dried. The equipment was mostly still on, but remained dormant and unguided. Whatever order these agents had received was not only powerful, but likely threatening as well. 

 

Reyes stiffened. Every fiber was on alert, ready to—well, he didn't know what he would need to do. Fight, flee, or simply kowtow to some pompous language and leave. Although not as fun as a fight, kowtowing was certainly the favorable option of the three where Angela was concerned. 

 

Cautiously circling the main console, Reyes moved to stand between it and the screen occupying the entirety of the wall. Taking one last survey to ensure he was alone, Reaper found he no longer was as the screen behind him shifted to an incoming frequency. 

 

 _"Reaper."_  

 

Well, his superior didn't exactly sound pleased but... No, actually, it sounded about as bad as he imagined. "You wanted to speak with me?" 

 

"Yes, well, it seems you've been making failure a habit recently. Very uncharacteristic." Restraining a growl, Reyes bit down on his tongue and focused on the bitter taste of smoke rather than the bitter words peppering him. "Would you care to recount any of the innumerable failings you've accumulated as of late?" 

 

Sucking in a fortifying breath, Reaper chose his words carefully and ran over each "failed" mission. Winston had fried him pretty severely, but there was still a great deal of information he'd secured. And as far as the butchery of his own agent, well, he thought he bullshit his way out of that pretty well. All the while he spoke, Reyes was quite aware that he was receiving a seething silence. Even when he finished, no response came. Swallowing, Reaper wondered momentarily if their connection was severed, but then— 

 

"Are you not forgetting something?" 

 

 _Angela._  

 

Shit. Reyes had rehearsed many excuses in his mind, but none of them felt sufficient under such scrutiny. "I believe I've covered my inadequacies pretty damn thoroughly." 

 

"Why is the Overwatch doctor _still alive_?!" 

 

The roar almost made Reaper jump. Almost. But nothing made him jump, and he kept his cool. "Sombra, I thought that was my order." 

 

"It has been three times longer than expected. No, than you promised!" Shit shit shit. Reyes had expected the math to be thrown in his face, he just couldn't come up with an answer that didn't make him sound soft. "Thus I repeat my question to you once again, Reaper. Why is the Overwatch doctor still breathing?" 

 

The pause between each word raked against Reaper's ire, and the implications sank his stomach. Each second he didn't reply seemed to thicken the air, but Reyes collected those seconds with great care as he sorted his next words. "She's an asset." 

 

No reply. 

 

Reyes was no longer counting the time in seconds, but in minutes. He had some idea of how many had passed, but it still felt like a gut punch when the blessed silence was finally broken. 

 

"An asset, perhaps, but one that has completed its purpose. You will not fail again." 

 

And with a disconnecting beep, Gabriel was left in the emptiness, trying to work the lump out of his throat and the painful pressure mounting in his skull. 

 

 ********  

 

With a heavy sigh, Reaper stood outside his bedroom door and stared absently at the entryway. Thankfully, Angela was still with Sombra, but at some point she would have to know the suddenly precarious situation. And how very few clues Reyes had to deal with it. 

 

With a wary groan, Reyes entered. The throbbing in his skull—aside from that which always existed within his torn being—had intensified, and he found himself in rare need of a break. Shaking off his coat with a breath of relief, Reyes tossed the garment haphazardly onto the floor and slid his mask from his face. So much weight, he carried so much weight on him, literally, physically, metaphorically, burdened. It simply had to be a part of his curse. 

 

Digging the heels of his palm into his brow, Reyes sank down onto the bed as he tried to sort his garbled thoughts. 

 

A soft sound of crunching paper beneath him slowly drew his focus to the external world, and firmly yanked him from his train of thought. 

 

Tilting his hip up, Reaper tugged free some of the scattered papers for examination. A few were scored pages, others loose leaf and blank, while excess scraps were mixed in the batch. Angela's handwriting. No surprise there. Squirreling away anything she could get her hands on was a usual event Gabriel had become aware of. 

 

Taking a glance of the first random page, Reyes found it covered in calculations—complete gibberish—numbers and equations sprawled every which way with many scribbles negating incorrect numbers or misprints. Sliding that page aside, Reyes scanned another which appeared to be similar, and then reread the following when his name appeared in several places. 

 

What in the actual hell? 

 

Scooping up different pages, Reyes found rough outlines of his old Overwatch file, general accounts of his known enhancements, and many with question marks where information was missing. What was Angela doing, cataloguing his info? How long had she been working on this? For a while, evidently, given how many pages peppered the bed. 

 

A sound drew Gabriel's head up and his hand to his gun, a soft shriek meeting him from the dampened blonde staring wide-eyed at his presence. 

 

Wearing nothing more than a towel and a startled expression. 

 

With a heavy exhale, Reyes released his hellfire's hilt. "Damn it, one of these days you're going to end up eating lead. What are you even doing here anyway?" 

 

Angela's delicate hand fell from her chest after a few steadying breaths, and her face regained that usual composure. "Perhaps you are simply too jumpy." Her eyebrow cocked. 

 

Gabriel snorted, he sure was jumpy given the meeting he just had. But something stopped him from revealing that to her. "Naked women bursting out of my bathroom and screaming tend to have that effect I guess." A grin split Gabriel's face at the chastising glare he earned, along with the way Angela securely gripped her towel. 

 

"I decided to turn in a bit early this evening. I wanted to wash my clothes and such in peace." Angela plainly redirected the conversation away from where Reyes tried to steer it, but that brought back his current questions. 

 

Paper shifting in his grasp, Reyes pressed to his feet. "I think I found the 'and such' part." He stepped closer and held up a page. "What is this?" 

 

Okay, he didn't intend that to come out as threatening as it sounded, but it did. Oh well. Angela was a big girl, and she wasn't a bitch like Sombra who would have noted how scary he sounded. Angela's features fell slightly as she looked at the paper. Her gaze hit the floor, shifting under his scrutiny, "I did not know you would be coming back or I would not have left all of that out." She said softly, pricking Gabriel's ire. 

 

He hated when she dodged questions. He hated even more that she made it so damn hard to be high-strung with her gentle manner and her... barely clothedness. 

 

With a deep breath, Angela's eyes met his with a sincerity and hurt that nearly branded his hide, and dissolved his anger. "I tried so very hard, Reyes." And there she went using his last name again. A bad habit he would have to break her of with time, "I am truly sorry, I tried to figure out what caused such a... a violent reaction in you with my staff. But I could not. The numbers still make no sense. I wanted to perhaps fix what damage I caused you, or at least give you some answers but—" 

 

Reaper's hand signaled an end to Angela's explanation. Allowing his eyes to rove back over the paper in his hand, a flood of emotions began a rolling boil inside his chest. She was trying to fix him. "How long?" 

 

Angela blinked and licked her lips. "Ah... About, um, roughly around, ah... I do not know... Maybe the... Second week or so that I was here?" 

 

Gabriel tried to swallow the lump reforming in his throat. It made sense. She saw him and immediately started working on how to fix what she had done. And the day Widow broke down her door and threatened her life? Angela had been working on figuring out what in the hell happened to him. 

 

He was trying to decide whether that was flattering or insulting, yet knowing Angela, Reyes sank into the belief that she had not gone to such trouble simply to alleviate her own guilt. Perhaps in part, but given the way that she looked at him, Angela wasn't thinking about herself. She was doing this for him. Always giving, always selfless. Her kindness was like a knife in Gabriel's guts. What made Angela want to give him _anything_? All he'd ever brought her was suffering. 

 

So busy processing the information, Reyes jolted slightly when Angela's hands lightly cupped his cheek. With a silent hope that his expression wouldn't completely give away his thoughts, he gave her form a scan. Angela wore uncertainty on her features, but she wasn't afraid, even in the presence of his unmasked being, even in nothing but a towel. She didn't fear him. Her damp hair hung in unruly waves about her face, making her look a little less ethereal than usual and a little more human. But no less perfect. His stomach wretched, he had no business in the presence of perfection. 

 

"I only wished to give you some kind of closure. And, perhaps, ease your burden. You know this, right?" Her voice took a few extra seconds to penetrate Gabriel's haze, his mind a little too focused on how much deeper blue her eyes became between a shower and her emotions. When her words registered, Reyes gave a curt nod and drew a smile from the angel before him. "Good. I am sorry if I overstepped my boundaries." 

 

Leaning forward on her toes, Angela brushed a soft kiss across his cheek, and Reyes almost shuddered from the gentle contact. "I don't deserve this..." His words were soft, subdued, and complete gravel, but Angela froze. She pulled back enough to look him in the—ruined—eyes. Her expression was enough to convey her confusion with his declaration. Reyes winced some and forced his gaze away. "I never did." The confession grated on old wounds, old reservations that flared up along with all the shit that came pouring back. 

 

Suddenly a delicate finger was jabbed in his face, starting Reyes from his wallowing. "Never say that again." Angela's voice was softer than her posture, but still left no room for argument. Reyes blinked. "I know who and what you are. I always have. And I choose you. Do you understand that, Gabriel? I _choose_ you." Sinking back down to flat feet, Angela gently scooped up his hand and cradled it in a light grasp before her, a fingertip beginning to trace his palm. 

 

Gabriel's shoulders slumped. Even with her truth ringing in his ears, "That makes no sense." If he could only find some way to tell her that she was in imminent danger—again—because of him, maybe she would see... 

 

Angela shot a quick look his way before refocusing on her movements. "Do you know how many times I have dreamt of these hands?" Reyes blinked again. A small smile grew on Angela's face, her gaze becoming sentimental. "Night after night, year after year, I dreamed of your hands. I dreamt what they would feel like," Her hands carefully extracted his glove, then her touch ran more flatly across Gabriel's. "These callouses," Raising his hand, Angela pressed a kiss into his roughened skin, "These scars," Turning his hand over, her lips feathered over the wounds that had long since healed, "These fingers." Bringing his hand upright, she lingered kisses across each fingertip, meeting Gabriel's gaze upon the last one. 

 

Guiding his hand, Angela let him slip away from her mouth and moved it to caress her cheek. "I dreamed of what your hands would feel like on my skin. What would it be like to know your touch? Have your hands on me?" Her lips parted to continue, but a shy smile stopped her, and a faint blush bloomed in her cheeks. Reyes had a feeling he knew what she was going to say next. _Have your fingers_ in _me._ With her grin diminishing, Angela's serious air returned. "I have had many people flirt with me over my life, and try to gain my favor." Jealousy stabbed Reyes with shocking force, "But the only person's touch I have ever dreamt of was yours." Her gaze pinned him as she released his hand. "It's always been you, Gabriel." 

 

With his hand still voluntarily cupping her jaw, Reyes swept his thumb back and forth across Angela's cheekbone. Every fiber in his being was thrumming, for once he barely noticed the burn of his own skin or the weight of the world on his shoulders. There was nothing else but the angel in his hands. Maybe he didn't deserve her—never did and never would—but right here, that didn't matter. 

 

All Gabriel wanted was to make Angela his, regardless of whether he earned her or not. And in return, to become hers. 

 

Sliding his fingers around into the nape of her neck, his mouth melded to hers. With his loose arm, Reyes tugged her closer, and Angela came to him. Every brush of contact with her sent the intensity of his need skyrocketing, growing to the point of nearly insatiable. There would be no toying, no teasing or making her beg, no thrill of secrecy. Just Angela. Branding Angela as his, _his_ angel, and ensuring she knew that she'd had him long ago. 

 

 ********  

 

 _With a roar of frustration, Reyes jabbed his fists into the punching bag over and over again, without care of where they landed or how proper his form was. He wanted to break it from the chain securing it to the ceiling. He wanted to split it open and gut it. He wished it was Jack instead of a sack of sand._  

 

 _That little prick stole his job, and the only care in the world seemed to be his own._  

 

 _Of course, it wasn't just Jack. It wasn't just the pretty boy who Reyes wanted some brand of self-righteous justice on. Or revenge. Whatever word seemed to spring to mind first. They amounted to the same things._ _Overwatch_ _had turned their back on Reyes and he wanted them to know what it felt like._  

 

 _Unfortunately, his moral compass kept him from acting on his rage. For now. Oh sure, he would send out passive aggressive remarks like it was his day job, and he would stare daggers at anyone who crossed his line of sight. But his oaths to protect humanity kept him from demolishing those around him._  

 

 _The punching bag on the other hand?_  

 

 _Left, right, left, right, jab after jab, Reyes attempted to beat his frustration into the hide of the sack, but it_ _wasn't properly_ _alleviating_ _his frustration. Harder and harder he punched, but Reyes felt no great relief, no "whoosh" of comfort. Only a building fire in his guts. Another roar tore from him as he finally put his fist clean through the exterior and sent sand pouring onto the ground._  

 

 _Standing there for a good, long while, Reyes collected his thoughts as he watched its insides spill over his arm and pile up below._  

 

 _It wasn't enough. He was usually ale to beat out some of his frustration to make the sting more tolerable. But tonight? Tonight it was insatiable. His rage was still burning, and the fire was beginning to lick at the heels of other parts of his being. It was the start of_ _consumption, and Reyes didn't know how to stop it anymore..._  

 

 _Maybe he didn't want to._  

 

 _At that thought, Reyes yanked his arm free and stormed off. He needed something strong to drink._  

 

 ********  

 

Reyes wasn't entirely sure how long he had been kissing her, all he knew was neither one of them had any reservations left. So many tiny mewls rolled from Angela's throat when she ground her hips into his, when her tongue found his, when his teeth buried into her lip. Panting, Gabriel's hand finally caught her hair and gently guided her head back as he pulled away. 

 

The look in Angela's eyes almost undid him completely. 

 

Once she understood, the woman allowed her head to loll, granting him access to the sensitive, creamy skin he so desired to taste. And bite. Without so much as a second's hesitation, Reyes descended onto her flesh and began lavishing her long, elegant neck with a flurry of sloppy kisses. The way Angela's body ever so slightly quivered underneath his barrage of attention drew a satisfied moan from his throat. 

 

"Will..." A gasp cut her question off when Gabriel sank his teeth into her pale skin and _sucked_. "W—will they be looking for you?" If Angela was trying to sound like she was concerned, she was failing miserably. Her voice barely formed words beyond the lustful noises spilling from her. Of course, his lackeys _would_ be looking for him, especially since he had another mission coming soon. But some things took priority. 

 

"I," Gabriel soothed her skin with a few kisses, "Couldn't give," Tilting Angela's head back further, his tongue flattened in the gap of her collarbone and slowly dragged a trail up to her jawline, "A shit." He poured a bit of emphasis into his words as he met the periphery of her gaze. This didn't have to do with anyone else. And now, Angela seemed to understand that. 

 

Tilting her face forward, and pulling out of Gabriel's grasp on her hair, Angela met his eyes for a long moment. Their breaths were heavy, the aura around them intense. Neither said more, they didn't need words, an entire conversation was exchanged with the single look. Intent. Promises. _Permission_. And with that, Angela's hand slid up his broad chest, searching out release of Gabriel's body armor. Without looking away from him. 

 

Slowly releasing her, Reyes tugged his other glove free and then aided in dropping plates of metal to the floor. He also made special note that the only thing holding up Angela's towel was the negated space—her body molded so tightly to his that Gabriel was quite sure not even his own smoke could pass between them. 

 

Free at last of his armor, Angela's hands were relentless on him. They next sought his shirt, ensuring that they spread across every possible inch of his skin as they drew the garment up and over his head. Reyes was much more interested in the shifting of Angela's covering as she did so. 

 

Then, her digits paused to trace an edge of his broken skin. Curiously, gently. The contact stung, but some masochistic piece of Gabriel enjoyed the burning sensation—it meant Angela was touching him, _him_ _in_ _the_ _flesh_. That was a grace in and of itself. He could actually feel her, she was so close and no barriers kept her from him. 

 

"Does it hurt?" She whispered, watching the way his vapor clung to her fingertips. 

 

"All the time." Was the only reply Reyes could muster. Angela swallowed roughly. 

 

Leaning down—and more importantly, letting her towel fall away—Angela's lips found the damaged planes of his chest as she ran kisses along the ridges of his fissures. It hurt. It constantly hurt though, always, all of it. But as the angel's tongue gave a soft swipe of his skin, and her hands carefully ran over the ridges of his back while avoiding direct contact with his smoke, Gabriel had never experienced a better pain. 

 

Taking a step back, he guided Angela away from the messy kisses she was blessing his body with, and gently straightened her. With his angel displayed to him, Reyes took a steadying breath of self-control. A faint blush crept into Angela's cheeks—and why was he still looking at her _face_? Well, because she was still too perfect to look away from—but her modesty didn't win out. Angela didn't move to hide in her shyness, but allowed his gaze to freely rove over her body. 

 

Slowly, Gabriel prowled around her, soaking in her image with intense heat surging in his veins. A groan rolled from his throat when he came up behind Angela, and watching goosebumps rise on her skin, Gabriel's hands found her curves. 

 

"Now." Was all Reyes managed to grit out, between his one hand travelling down to ensure she was prepared for him, which she most definitely was, and the other sliding up to play with her breasts. For a moment, Angela didn't respond, just shivered under his touch and pressed back into him. And damn if that friction wasn't hypnotic. But when she pulled away and faced him, flushed skin and dilated eyes, gently leading him back towards _their_ bed, Reyes damn near lost his mind. 

 

"Now." She breathed. 

 

 ********  

 

 ** _THUMPTHUMPTHUMP_**  

 

 _His fist beat her office door with an abandon only brought about by half a bottle of hard liquor. "Open up!" Reyes slurred at the sealed entry. Slapping his palm haphazardly at the door once more, he soon heard Angela's soft voice from beyond its threshold._  

 

 _"Reyes?"_  

 

 _Well of course it was him, was she stupid? He was about to dish out more punishment on her door when the damn thing swung open and his arm swung loosely through the newly vacated space. Angela rubbed sleep out of one eye with her palm, then straightened slightly as she took in his appearance. "_ ** _Mein Gott_** _, you are wasted."_  

 

 _"No shit." Reyes snapped back, his words dragging behind him. With a slight sway in his frame, he jabbed a finger into her face. "I knew you..._ _would-_ _be-_ _working_ _too hard here..." Hunkering down a bit as his words bled into each other, his eyes narrowed at the startled doctor, "I_ ** _always_** _know when you—you're-_ _workin_ _'_ _too... damn... hard."_  

 

 _Angela blinked, maybe from his words or maybe from the harsh alcohol on his breath, but through his haze, Gabriel recognized how she didn't step back_ _. Though, sober,_ _he might have picked up on her posture_ _which was decidedly leaned_ _away from him. "That is quite considerate of you. Perhaps you are the one working too hard—"_  

 

 _His holler cut off her words as he paced around the space between her entry and the hallway. Reyes was remarkably_ _dexter_ _ous given how much he had polished off, but then again, his fucking enhancements probably had to do with that. And why it took so much to get drunk in the first place_ _. His stumble didn't even show up in his aggressive steps, but it_ _seemed to stir Angela's concern regardless._  

 

 _"Reyes," Her voice was soothing, but barely broke through his stupor, "Why did you knock on my door?"_  

 

 _"You don't listen..." Reyes_ _muttered back, moving to slide a hand through his hair but effectively freeing his hat from his head instead. "I thought you_ _w'_ _re_ _-different, Doc."_  

 

 _Angela s_ _tepped out and gently wrapped an arm around his shoulders while the other touched_ _his wrist. "Did_ _you want_ _to come inside?"_  

 

 _Heat stabbed Reyes in the lower abdomen, and he turned his darkened gaze down to her face. "Yes." His voice was low, graveled, and made Angela's eyes widen. Reyes growled when the doctor tentatively removed her touch from him and stepped back, gesturing toward her office._  

 

 _"Here, step into my office. We can_ ** _talk_** _."_  

 

 ********  

 

If the unfathomable feeling coursing through him hadn't been so intense, Gabriel would have actually felt bad for how jerky and erratic his thrusts were. Shit, it must have felt like being humped by a horny teenager who didn't have a clue of what they were doing. But the feel of Angela, the taste of her, the sound of her, the _experience_ of her completely unraveled his psyche. 

 

To her credit, if Angela was faking, she was doing a stellar job. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, fingers trembling, and nails scraping at him, she alternated between a wriggling thrash and peppering sloppy kisses on his neck. Reyes hadn't realized until then, but being buried in Angela, wrapped in as close of an embrace as possible, that heaven actually existed in the world of the living. 

 

For years, Gabriel had pictured Angela as a closet screamer. Beneath her proper exterior, he guessed a wild abandon existed, and all it would take was the right kind of fucking to bring it out. What he found was so much better. As her whole body clenched around him, there was no great shout of ecstasy, or earth-shattering cry of his name. There was whimpering. A lusty, shaky whimpering as her body lost control beneath her. Reyes had never heard something so sweet, nor had anything ever shot fire through his blood quite the way that Angela's beautiful orgasmic sounds did. 

 

Between her reaction, and her body spurring him to join her, his endurance finally broke and Gabriel followed after her into seemingly unending bliss. 

 

It seemed like ages that they stayed there, intertwined. Gabriel's arms were braced on either side of her, but he rested more of his weight on Angela than he planned to as his muscles caved. She didn't seem to mind though. In fact, Angela clung to his frame tighter, keeping him pinned to her while one hand gently played with his hair. Reyes savored the soothing, to be completely engulfed in an angel. Trading soft nuzzles and pants, Gabriel eventually took a little nibble of her ear when some of his senses came back. 

 

"I love you, Angela." His voice was so weak, he doubted she would have heard it had he not been right beside her ear. But hear it she did, as Angela feathered a few kisses up his jaw. 

 

"And I love you, Gabriel." It felt as if something had just brought his gangrene soul back from the dead. 

 

 ********  

 

 _Reyes stormed into her office and resumed his pacing there. Agitation and aggression dripped from his body, and his restless movements stirred some papers on Angela's desk. "Alright Reyes," The doctor spoke gently as she shut the door and tented her fingertips on the shuffling papers, "Spill."_  

 

 _Fixing his gaze on her as he continued to pace, Reyes struggled to focus between_ _Angela's demand_ _, and his own thought trails. "I knew you-would be_ _h're_ _."_  

 

 _"And why did you want to speak to me?"_  

 

 _"I knew_ _b'cause_ _I—I always make sure y_ _ou_ _get back to your-room." His gaze was sharp on her, piercing, and angry._  

 

 _Angela reared back some. "What? You... Why do you do that?"_  

 

 _"_ _W'll_ _now I don't_ _!" Reyes roared. Angela jumped. "I can't!_ _B'cause_ _you're not under my_ _jur'_ _sdiction_ _anymore!" His pacing turned downright threatening, but Angela didn't move. "Jack fuckin'_ _took that from me too!"_  

 

 _Angela's shoulders slumped as her emotions spread across her face. Pity. She understood now. As Reyes raced around the room, ranting and raving ineloquently, incoherently, Angela cautiously moved closer and guided him around her desk._  

 

 _At first he resisted, muscles tensing against the coaxing. But, like a child throwing a tantrum, Reyes slowly ran out of steam and his babbling tapered. Allowing his large frame to be lowered into her chair, he_ _stared blankly down at his boots, numb. Angela was speaking_ _, with a gentleness he rarely heard from anyone, but her words were lost on him. Slumping forward, he resigned to sink into his misery._  

 

 _And then a delicate hand slid over his back. "I will stay with you as long as you need." Angela whispered._  

 

 _Her attempts to ease his hurt didn't help, but maybe it made the pill easier to swallow._ _After all_ _, misery loves company._  

 

 ********  

 

Why was everything black? Dark? Had Angela's absolute perfection actually blinded him at some point? 

 

Oh. He was just sleeping. Gabriel never slept, didn't need it, couldn't afford it any longer. But with a familiar weight pressing down on his chest, and a delicate touch sliding over the definition in each muscle, Reyes realized he had actually gotten some genuine sleep of which he was rousing from. Slowly opening his eyes and watching smoke sweep away from his vision, he allowed the environment to seep back into his groggy haze.  

 

Angela was on top of him, her cheek resting on the expanse of his chest as her fingers traced the lines of his body. God only knew how much time had passed, but apparently it hadn't been enough for his angel to get sick of their contact and extract herself. That was a satisfying thought. 

 

Stirring his stiffened muscles, the movement brought Angela's head tilting up to see him. Some mixture of protectiveness and awe shot through Gabriel's chest. "Did I wake you?" She asked softly. He gave a shake of his head. And even if she had, he would much rather spend time awake in her presence. "Good." A lazy smile spread over Angela's face, followed by some thought that clouded her eyes. "You should go back to sleep then. I will be here when you awake." She shifted back to her original position, shuttering away her mind from him. 

 

And wasn't _that_ just unacceptable? 

 

"What's wrong?" 

 

Angela's touch paused. "You will not like the answer." 

 

Using his own words, trying to ease some tension. Not good. "Angela," Tucking his finger under her chin, Gabriel carefully guided her face back toward him, "What is it?" 

 

The doctor took a few moments to simply look at him. There was no fear or disgust in her face—she even smiled again. Then, slowly propping herself up, Angela's fingers resumed their tracing. "How long will we—this—last?" 

 

Perhaps he should have gone back to sleep. Reyes remained silent. 

 

"I mean..." Her touch ran over the grooves in his stomach, finding each line, scar, and border leading into smoke, "As much as I want to help people in need, it is what I have sworn to do after all, I cannot serve Talon forever." Angela's eyes flickered away from his, landing somewhere around his collarbone. "I cannot stand by an organization that goes against all of my morals. Are you... Are you still loyal to Talon?" 

 

"Not particularly." 

 

Angela's head snapped up, confusion and some kind of hope in her eyes. "No?" 

 

Reyes tucked an arm behind his head while his other hand found the small of her back. He was definitely going to have himself checked to see if he caught the blabber bug that Sombra carried. "I'm allies with them because they stand against Overwatch. I don't give a flying rats ass for their ideals or anything else. They seek, in part, to destroy everything Overwatch has ever built. That's the only part that matters to me." Savoring the curve of her back, the slope of her spine, Reyes watched Angela's light dim. "I'm not loyal to Talon, I'm loyal to _anything_ that breaks down what Overwatch wrought." 

 

A woeful smile tugged Angela's lips. "So I suppose you are saying there is no way I can convince you to give that goal up, then?" Her tone carried all the heartbreak she felt, but a humor was still infused with her words that brought a matching smile to Gabriel. 

 

"Maybe if you officially join Talon." Following the trail of her spine all the way up to the nape of her neck, he watched Angela's posture sink slightly in his grasp. That would certainly ease all of his problems, but he knew better than to expect an angel to serve in hell. "I don't know what we'll do." His own honesty astounded him. "But I don't want to worry about that right now. You shouldn't either. It's depressing as shit." 

 

Angela smirked, and leaned back into his hand momentarily before she moved to more fully straddle his hips. "Perhaps I can bring your spirits back." She sank down to better grind against his pelvis. 

 

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow and tried to restrain a wolfish grin from his features. And failed. "That's a mighty task, you sure you're up for the challenge?" 

 

Giving her hips more of a dragging roll—and drawing a moan from his throat—Angela gave an innocent shrug. "We never know unless we try." 

 

Talon and Overwatch and the whole world could wait for a while. For the time being, Reyes was simply going to savor the miracle woman who made all the pain of his burdens fade away, who actually brought him some kind of peace. That was a gift more valuable then revenge. Temporarily. And if she did that by riding him, who was he to judge? 

 

Hot damn.


	9. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably come back and fix this chapter a bit. I just wanted to get it out there since I've taken my sweet time.
> 
> The French in this chapter means "Little Dove", just fyi.
> 
> Only one more chapter to go! Thank y'all so much for sticking with me through this. I love reading your comments, they are the highlights of my days. :) I hope you continue to enjoy this little story! <3

**CHAPTER NINE**  

 

So there she stood, bloodied, wet, and in nothing but her underwear, looming over the fallen assassin, pointing the woman's own weapon at her. Angela's nerves were completely frayed, and pain radiated through her body as her multiple wounds caught up with her. Breathing hurt like hell, and hoisting such a large rifle up was killing her arm. But the dizziness was what worried her, having lost so much blood was catching up rapidly. 

 

The smell of fire made her stomach churn with anxiety, alerting her to the fact she was no longer alone. Slowly turning her head—without removing the rifle's sights from Amelie—Angela found she was face to face with Reaper's hellfire. 

 

Staring wild-eyed up at the man whose gaze glowed with a feral light and chest heaved with heavy breaths, Angela sucked in enough courage to speak. "Please, allow me to explain..." 

 

 ********  

 

"We are going to get caught." 

 

"Only if you keep making so much noise." His chuckle rumbled close to her ear in a purr that made her every nerve tingle. 

 

With hands pressed into the wall, pants around her knees and body precariously curved for better access, Angela found herself shivering through each of Gabriel's painfully slow thrusts. His frame encompassed hers, clawed hands submerged up her shirt while he kneaded her breasts to the same leisurely rhythm. And, of course, Reyes chose to take her around a corner from the main hallway, rocking Angela to unreal levels of arousal at a damn snail's pace where literally anyone could find them. In the middle of the day. 

 

It was fantastic. And _terrifying_. 

 

How this happened was beyond her. Reyes had pulled her aside, saying he needed to talk to her, then after a long silence he tilted his mask up and kissed her. One thing lead to another, and now Angela bit the inside of her cheek to keep her sounds contained as she shuddered against being delightfully tortured. 

 

Reaper craned his neck to ensure the coast was still clear, then dipped back down to nuzzle her shoulder. "You know," He casually murmured, "I enjoy seeing you like this." Earning a gasp as he sluggishly filled her again, Reyes then slid his hands down to her stomach at the same pace with which he withdrew. 

 

Angela was concerned for her physical state, seeing as her knees were locking up and her eyes may or may not have just rolled back with a flutter. "What?" She breathed. 

 

"You," Reyes pressed until his hips ground into her, "Getting off on the thrill of being caught." A soft groan rolled from her throat as electricity sparked up her spine between his words and his ever roughening actions. "Seeing the prim and proper Doctor," He sucked at her neck with far more delicacy than she craved, though that wasn't saying much, "Enslaved to her primal needs behind enemy lines..." Smugness dripped from his words, but Angela didn't care. 

 

She was far too busy spasming off how perfectly he stretched her. Fingers hopelessly clawing at the wall, lips trembling, Angela's reasoning was quickly slipping away like flour through a sieve. Reaper chuckled and reared back, but only enough to alleviate some pressure before he rather roughly pushed back against her. "And I like bringing that out of you." His voice was but a whisper on her ear and she lolled her head back onto his shoulder. Arching a bit further to give him a better angle, Angela quickly forgot about her concerns and simply focused on Gabriel... 

 

That is, until the sounds of voices traveled up the hall. 

 

Snapping up, Reyes listened like a hunting dog. All at once, his various touches began disappearing. His hands were the first to go. Readjusting his mask, Reyes gripped her hips and _carefully_ disengaged from her body. Angela could have wept from the loss. Upon hearing the quick zip and his last few details being fixed, she found some sanity. 

 

As she braced her legs beneath herself more securely, a shot of panic whirled through her chest when Reyes stepped around the corner and effectively left her behind. Shaky, empty, and scared, Angela hiked her pants back up and attempted to somehow brush off the guilt that clung to her being with a few swipes at her clothes. Still hazy and rattled, she decided everything was as in order as it was going to be, and hurried after Reaper. 

 

He had made it a few steps ahead of her, but not so far as to be conspicuous. Right? Swallowing roughly while collecting her thoughts, Angela's stomach twisted a bit harder as the voices drew closer. 

 

The French accent was eerily familiar and excessively hostile. 

 

Eying Reaper's back, his body language gave no clues as to what he had just been engaged in. Unfortunately, Angela highly doubted she would be so blessed as to shed her lustful afterglow that quickly. Of course, Gabriel had a mask, and a thick cod piece, all he really had to do was walk straight and he appeared to be his usual self. Once again, even _that_ task felt difficult to Angela, as the emptiness in her core radiated with every wobbly step. 

 

Her breath hitched in her throat when the Talon agents began passing by. Angela acted as usual, keeping her face down tilted. She hoped that would act to conceal the flush creeping across her skin. As Widowmaker's voice drew closer, Angela's anxiety mounted. 

 

Reyes never faltered in his steps, and she would know, seeing that she had been staring at his boots intently. The French voice paused, and it was as if Angela could feel daggers being dug into her hide with a gaze alone. But something felt wrong, not just a glare, more like Widowmaker was extracting the truths from her being. Keeping her expression cool and focused where it was, Angela attempted to ignore Amelie when the assassin's footfalls stopped dead and she continued to watch. 

 

What did she see when her cold stare pierced Angela? What prickled her so badly? 

 

Once the sound of steps resumed behind them, Angela watched Reaper's boots speed up, and she quickly made to keep pace. In almost no time they reached Sombra's room, but as Angela opened her mouth to question him, Reyes unceremoniously hauled her in and sped off. For a long while, Angela blinked at the space he had occupied. If the fear hadn't been bad enough, she was suddenly feeling quite a bit forgotten and... Used. 

 

 ********  

 

The day had dragged. Night had long since fallen but Sombra was especially pestering. On the plus side, her physical therapy made impressive progress, the girl was getting around with a walker quite well, and almost completely unassisted. It wouldn't be long before she was reconditioning her body... To go commit more acts of war. 

 

A harsh breath blew out Angela's lips. She needed a good, long, hot shower. Surely a nice soak in the steamy water would ease her growing discontent. 

 

As she stripped out of her bottoms, a shiver passed through her. Last time she'd done this, Reyes had showed up and... Well, a lot happened. Many times. Heat rose into Angela's cheeks at the thought, but some recollection also seeped in from those events. He had looked so stressed when she stepped out of the bathroom, and he spoke of his guilt, how he didn't deserve her. How all he brought her was suffering. Then today, he tried to tell her something important and diverted into physical affection instead. 

 

Something was amiss with Reyes. 

 

Stepping into the bathroom, a sobering shiver raced up Angela's spine. Amelie Lacroix certainly had something amiss as well. Angela had made an overt effort to avoid the other woman, just in case, yet an aspect was off in the hallway. Perhaps it was simply her imagination, but the aura Amelie's body language—what little Angela's peripheral vision caught—gave off contained a different breed of hostility. 

 

Slipping her shirt off and shutting the bathroom door, Angela raked her hands down her face and looked her reflection in the eye. "We have had quite a bizarre day, yes?" Nodding to herself, Angela smiled in return. "Perhaps we will have a chance to voice our concerns with Gabriel later? I think we should—" She paused. Blinking, as if clearing her sight might clear what she observed in the mirror, Angela slowly tilted her head to better view her neck. 

 

There. Blossoming on her skin, a soft reddened mark. The blotch had many cousins, Reyes seemed to enjoy littering her pure being with bruises. But this particular little hickey... Why was it so high on her neck? The others he had left were nicely concealed by collars on her borrowed shirts. This one, unlike its brethren, sat farther back on her skin, and higher. When had he even...? _H_ _e sucked_ _at her_ _neck_ _with far more delicacy than she craved,_ _though that wasn't saying_ _much_ _..._ Holding her hands where the shirt once roughly sat, a little gasp caught in Angela's throat. If one looked intently, it would have been— 

 

Which side had Amelie passed her on? 

 

With her mind scrambling to recall, Angela's stomach sank almost as quickly when she heard the bedroom door in the next room open. Amelie must have seen, assumed. Been correct. And now, Angela blankly turned her gaze to the locked bathroom door, knowledge sitting in her chest like a rock. Gabriel would have known she was back, would have knocked on one or both of the doors, would have made his presence known. This presence was like the wind. Silent, uninvited. 

 

Widowmaker. 

 

As if she could feel the assassin creeping closer, Angela stepped back—silently—until her calves bumped the edge of the tub. Every sense was on high alert. And then she heard her. 

 

"Ah, _petite_ _colombe_ _._ You still believe Reaper will storm in and save you." The assassin's accent rolled. Angela's breath hitched. "He's but a tenant in the house of Talon. And you see, it's now been made very clear. _No pets_ _allowed_." 

 

An instinct ignited in Angela, and she threw herself behind the toilet. The first shot sailed through the wall and barreled into her arm before she could duck. A small shriek escaped her lips, but Angela quickly bit the rest back and silently gritted through the pain. The next series of shots breezed into the bathroom as if Amelie was toying with her, but after a couple shots cracked the porcelain of the sink and failed to obliterate her, Angela knew the assassin was simply having a hard time hitting her. 

 

While bullets peppered the bathroom and Angela ducked into as small of a ball as possible behind the bathroom objects, her mind quickly spun to scrounge up as much information on her foe as possible. Widow was calculating. Her rifle had a scope, and Reyes had stopped Angela from peeking around him. Widow was a sniper. That headgear, when Reyes moved her back behind himself, Amelie was quick to snap her headgear into place. Perhaps it had thermal imaging of some sort? Likely something more enhanced. But since Gabriel's voice hadn't eased after Angela was behind him, she guessed that Widow could still target her through him somehow. And now, since she was firing directly at Angela's position, that theory seemed correct. 

 

A sniper who could target through conceivably anything and could not be persuaded. Talon had quite an asset on their hands. 

 

A bullet blasted past the remnants of the sink and into her last barricade—the toilet. Seeing the water explode out of the tank, Angela quickly yelped sprawled out on the floor, trying to appear dead—or at least wounded. Not that she wasn't, but perhaps she could buy herself more time. Carefully glancing around, she spied her towel on the rack—a compress for her bullet hole—and the top of the toilet tank sitting on the floor near her side. 

 

Keeping her breathing as shallow as possible, Angela waited. A chuckle sounded through the door and she thought she heard reloading. A couple swift kicks broke the doorway open, and the doctor's assailant stepped in. "Oh, did I clip the dove's wings?" Her voice was honey, but it was laced with steel. Angela's arm inched ever so slightly closer to the porcelain lid. As Widow lined up the headshot, her headgear opened from her face. 

 

" _A_ _u revoir_." 

 

As soon as Angela heard the headgear shift, she pushed herself up with a noise of strain, and hauled the lid into Widowmaker's legs. A gasp exited the assassin as she crumpled from the impact on her knees, but before she could recover, Angela yanked free the towel and took off in a sprint through both open doors—carefully dodging Widow in the process. 

 

Now she had a chance, since she was in the hallway... Right? 

 

Unless more Talon agents were out to kill her. 

 

Shit. Well, for the time being, that couldn't be helped. Darting around a corner, Angela could hear Widow's steps in the hall behind her and calculated her lead. If she maintained that lead, she could stay out of direct sight and avoid getting shot again. Maybe she could find somewhere to hide, or make it to some area with flammable substances—forcing Widow to either risk blowing them both up or just not shoot. Somehow, Angela didn't feel any better at the prospect of facing that woman in hand to hand combat, much less with a gunshot wound. 

 

Speaking of, as Angela ducked around a corner and felt some drywall rain down from a missed shot Widow took at her, the doctor quickly wrapped the towel as tight around her arm as possible and tied it as best she could. With that somewhat taken care of, she was free to observe her surroundings and come up with a plan. 

 

Her heart clenched when she drew closer to a code locked door—couldn't slow down, had to keep moving—so she danced on her feet and took a few steps back to the nearest turn. She almost lost her head when Widow rounded behind her, but Angela came to some winding halls she could work with. Swinging around the next corner, terror speared her at the sight of two Talon agents strolling up towards her. If memory served, they had dragged the man with a compound fractured leg to her. Hopefully they would give a quick death—if they could catch her. 

 

Their expressions dropped upon seeing the half-naked, injured doctor, but they did something Angela hadn't anticipated. "Who's after you?" One hollered, looking behind her for some form of assailant. 

 

"We can help you, Doctor." The other gave a swift nod and reached for his hip holster. The words were meant genuinely, she knew, at first. But Angela didn't slow down or wait to see their reactions when Widowmaker faced them down. Barreling past, she sped right by without second thought to the kindness, and was rather surprised when she was unimpeded. 

 

A smirk twitched in the corner of Angela's mouth when she heard some very confused male voices, followed by a feral, female scream to "move". Although the footsteps soon resumed, Angela took note that _one_ , they were a little further behind, and _two_ , it was still _only_ Amelie. Her good deeds and mercy had proven profitable, in that she had a few more non-hostile faces around than she thought. 

 

However, none of that helped her escape the assassin. And if she didn't find an answer soon, she would lose the footrace due to fatigue and blood loss. Angela had to even the fight. But what could she use against a super weapon? If Amelie had training, God even knew how many enhancements, wall nullifying headgear, and terrifying aim, what did Angela have on her side to fight back? 

 

A breath of hope sucked into her lungs and she found just a bit more speed as she raced to get back around to the locked door. She might not have anything fancy, but she did have knowledge of two very important things. 

 

Medicine, and where to get it on base. 

 

 ********  

 

As she came up to the door once again, Angela rapidly punched in Reaper's code and watched the door slide open. As soon as the crack was big enough, she slid her body through and quickly relocked it behind her. That could make up for her lost time. She deeply hoped it would, as the next stretch of hallway was consecutive. Nowhere to hide. So she got to running. If she could make it to the next few turns, she could get to the room used for storing all sorts of medical supplies. 

 

She had never been in the room personally, but she had seen inside when her guards would grab some supplies along their escorting trip. There were all numbers of medicines available, and perhaps she could find something to knock her attacker out... If she could get close enough to her without getting shot. 

 

The door opened behind her. A quick moment to process the assassin's train of thought sent Angela to serpentine as a shot narrowly missed her skull. Widow knew it was a long hall, and she was prepared. As Angela reached the corner, a bullet clipped her calf and drew a shriek. Amelie was aiming to slow her down. 

 

Hopping behind the wall, the doctor gasped in a fortifying breath before she forced herself into a lopsided gallop. Quite a bit slower than she had been, but she still had a large lead and had made it to the curves of the bunker hallways. Her adrenaline helped to numb her pains as she made her way through the halls—only two more corners. 

 

A shot grazed her already injured arm, and Angela knew her lead was gone. 

 

Practically hearing the smug chuckle in Amelie's voice, Angela quickly locked herself in the nearest room—a broom closet—and heaved what she could against the door. With some rickety shelving in place for a barricade, her mind raced. 

 

There had to be something she could use to her advantage. Not many cleaning ingredients lay handy, and the lone broom didn't appear to be very formidable. Although better than nothing, as Angela's eyes scanned the room, her path quickly set in a different direction. The vents. 

 

Angela focused on removing the worn screws with her fingernail as quickly as possible when the sound of heels drawing closer sent her pulse to skittering. "Just where do you think you're going?" Widow's voice rang. Shit, she could see. Angela tried to ignore her, but she feared her brains would be decisively outside of their home if she couldn't—there! A screw popped loose, and the next wiggled loose with it. With a swift yank, and a soft cry from the throb in her arm, Angela scrambled into the large vent. 

 

"I'll be waiting for you!" 

 

Amelie's shout gave her little comfort, sounding as if she was toying with her prey now, but Angela suddenly found herself in a rather advantageous spot. She knew where she was going—three rooms down to be exact—and she knew there was an emergency lockdown switch inside for biohazards and fires. Or in her case, crazed murderers. She would have to be fast, as she knew Amelie would be right on her trail. Hopefully the panel inside worked the same as those within Overwatch, or else she was a goner. A breath of resolve fortified Angela as she kicked the vent out with her good leg. 

 

Throwing herself into the room and nearly taking out a shelf of supplies with her, Angela dove and quickly activated an emergency lockdown with a silent gratitude seeping through her that it worked much the same as those she had used previously. Amelie was half a second too late at opening the door, when everything slammed shut and went dark, a red light the only illumination while alarms blared. 

 

Taking a few calming breaths, Angela scanned the room. First and foremost, she found a bit more protection, as the walls had been reinforced to protect the valuable contents. Perhaps that included her, now. Next, she opened the large fridge at the back of the room and began sifting through vials of medication. After plucking a tranquilizer, a pain killer—guaranteed to render dizzying side-effects—and several other medications, Angela scooped up a syringe and began concocting her blend. 

 

She considered a lethal dose. Really she did. But the prospect of facing her captors having killed one of their top assassins didn't seem too pleasing. Angela figured she could give Reyes something to work with if he had the chance to get involved before Talon lynched her. Besides, she didn't honestly want to kill anyone. Especially if she could control it. So instead, Angela prepared a questionable dose. If it killed the assassin, whoops, but if not, then she could plea innocence. Maybe. 

 

With a sigh, Angela realized her hands were shaking, and considerably more pale than usual. She didn't think that bullet had hit an artery, but she had still lost quite a bit of blood in her arm. Whatever the case, not feeling well was considerably better than dead, so Angela pushed the thoughts from her mind and continued looking around as she pulled the syringe free. 

 

Amelie would be watching her. If she positioned herself too obviously, Angela might as well wave a flag reading "Sneak Attack". But she had already played the possum card, so lying on the floor and playing dead likely wouldn't work again. Ah, but she was in a medical room, and she just so happened to have injuries. Perhaps she could find a way to look like she was patching herself, medicating. That might work, or rather, it would have to. 

 

Scooping up some gauze and reluctantly dropping the towel from her arm, Angela leaned back against the wall beside the door and tightly wrapped her arm. Leaving the end undone—to give herself something to fiddle with, appearing busy—she simply waited and mentally rehearsed the scenario again and again. 

 

Thankfully for her nerves, she didn't have to wait long. 

 

The alarm shut down, and the door immediately snapped open. Ducking from the business end of the rifle that darted around the corner, Angela's ears rang from the dodged shot as she grabbed the top of it and shoved downward—just like Reyes had taught her. Throwing herself forward, Angela jabbed the syringe at her attacker. 

 

Widow was nimble, she didn't catch the needle in the neck as planned. But Angela did manage to swing back around and stick her in the arm. That would have to do, seeing as the contents were drained into Widowmaker's body before either knew what happened. Angela just prayed she stuck a blood vessel, that was the only way the medication would spread quick enough through Widow's system. Amelie's only reaction was a small gasp before wrenching herself away and spinning her rifle back into place. 

 

Rolling behind some shelves, Angela felt a bullet slam into her ribcage while two others shattered some bottles and equipment above her. The wind left her lungs in a swift blow, her inner doctor taking tally of what damage she had just sustained. Broken ribs. Bullet ricocheted off the shelves, lessening the impact, hopefully no bone fragments. New wound, more blood loss. Not good. 

 

Leaning against the shelving, Angela cupped her side and hunkered down as much as possible. She dismally hoped that she could somehow sink into the floor and disappear before Amelie obliterated her, but that wishful thinking was simply too far from reality to give her any comfort. Unfortunately, it was the only scenario she could fathom that would save her. 

 

However, the bullets quickly stopped. She heard a noise and peered up carefully above the shelf, a renewed hope clenching her chest. Amelie was staggering on her feet, struggling to stay upright. Her rifle teetered back and forth, unable to properly aim at Angela. Seeing her opportunity, the doctor quickly grabbed a beaker of some kind and hurled it at the assassin. Stumbling, Amelie's balance unsteadied further. Angela found more objects scattered about to pitch. 

 

"Wha'd you give me?" Widow slurred, her rifle slipping out of her hands as the world span in her eyes. 

 

Angela dove, scrambling up the gun and shoving her shoulder into Amelie. The unsteady woman went down, crumpling even under such weak force and barely breaking her own fall. Angela pointed the rifle at her, watching the consciousness slip out of Widowmaker's face. 

 

So there she stood, bloodied, wet, and in nothing but her underwear, looming over the fallen assassin, pointing the woman's own weapon at her. Angela's nerves were completely frayed, and pain radiated through her body as her multiple wounds caught up with her. Breathing hurt like hell, and hoisting such a large rifle up was killing her arm. But the dizziness was what worried her, having lost so much blood was catching up with her rapidly. 

 

The smell of fire made her stomach churn with anxiety, alerting her to the fact she was no longer alone. Slowly turning her head—without removing the rifle's sights from Amelie—Angela found she was face to face with Reaper's hellfire. 

 

Staring wild-eyed up at the man whose gaze glowed with a feral light and chest heaved with heavy breaths, Angela sucked in enough courage to speak. "Please, allow me to explain..." 

 

"Is she dead?" His voice growled, low and cold. Angela's insides trembled. 

 

"N-no, I do not believe so." She glanced back down at her attacker and noticed a faint movement in her chest. 

 

"Will she wake up any time soon?" 

 

Angela's eyes snapped back to Reaper, whose weapon was still trained on her. A shake of her head was her only response, the only one she could muster. Reaper glanced around her to Widow's form. "Anyone else after you?" He grumbled. Angela wet her lips nervously and thought back. No one had followed them, some agents had even stepped aside. But that didn't mean someone wasn't on their way now. 

 

"I do not honestly know. No one else came after me." Exhaustion showed in her face as the fight slowly drained out of her. "I understand if... if you have to take me awa—" 

 

"Can she hear us?" Reaper blatantly interrupted, his tone sharp. 

 

Angela blinked. "No, she is completely unconscious—" Once again, Reaper interrupted her, but in a much more pleasant way. 

 

In a flash, his frame engulfed hers, pulling her battered body into a gentle embrace. "We're getting you out of here." He shook his head, "No matter the cost." Some emotion choked his voice, making him squeeze her tighter. Angela whimpered as his grip crushed her bullet holes, and Reyes quickly released her to look her over. "Let's get you patched up. We'll discuss how to get you out afterwards." 

 

"They will heal in a few hours. My nano technology will see to that. But... Wait," Angela pushed his light prodding away to look at him more fully, "If I leave, what will happen to you?" 

 

Reyes held her gaze for a moment, then scooped her up into his arms and started down the hallway. "Nothing that's your concern." 

 

 ********  

 

The plan was in place. 

 

While Angela holed up in an empty office, Reaper saw to the preparations for their departure. It had to look like she escaped. Of course, that would take some doctoring of footage, but Reyes apparently had some deal in place with Sombra, and the woman didn't seem torn up about lying to her employers. 

 

In fact, Sombra had helped Angela quite a bit more than she had realized. As Reyes explained, once she saw Widow tracking Angela down, she ordered her guards to patrol the outside parameter, and to take as many agents with them as possible. Something about a risk of having their base discovered. Of course, she couldn't _clear_ the base, but she kept plenty of interference out of Angela's way. 

 

In a strange way, Angela was going to miss looking after her patient. She had spent countless hours chatting with her, and watched her go from practically a corpse to walking without aid of anything but crutches. Even if they were on opposite moral sides, Angela liked to consider her a friend of sorts, and she was never one to leave her friends behind willingly. 

 

But willingly she had to be. The great escape plan didn't leave room for a stumble, much less a lengthy goodbye. She would sneak out and make a break for the hanger. Since she knew Reaper's codes, it wouldn't be hard to make it believable. The only problem was that Reaper wouldn't be close by to help her, should someone come upon her mid-escape. He had to seem like he was prepping the plane for himself. And even if Angela knew their routes, Talon agents were well aware that she was wanted, and Widowmaker was missing. Sure, Amelie might have been tied to the shelves in medical storage, but for all anyone knew, she was dead. That upped the price on Angela's head. 

 

With a sigh, Angela slid down the wall to huddle up on the floor, hunkering down until it was time. 

 

Although each hour seemed to drag out, Angela soon found her chance came. Foot traffic eased, florescent lights in the halls went dark, and her window of opportunity struck. Slipping out of the door—still ginger from her prior injuries—Angela hurried as silently as she could through the halls toward Talon's hanger. There, she would find a plane waiting to take Reaper to his next mission, and her to freedom. If she made it that far. 

 

Ducking from some Talon agents here and there, taking extra caution not to make any excessive sounds, Angela made her way through the labyrinth of hallways to her desired door. She was so close, the lock panel on the door glowed softly just ahead, signifying freedom. Just a few punches of Reaper's code and— 

 

As she reached for the panel, the hallway was suddenly filled with red, flashing lights, and alarms began blaring. 

 

"Whoopsie, did I do that?" 

 

Angela froze. She'd know that accent anywhere, she'd listened to it for weeks—no, likely months at this point—it belonged to the woman she had been aided by not three hours earlier. Slowly turning, Angela met Sombra's gaze, the hacker propped on her crutches with a grin that could only be described as twisted. "Sombra... Why would you...?" Her words faded off into nothing, shock strangling any further sentence out. 

 

Sombra's grin widened. "Poor Angie." She clicked her tongue a few times. "I'm guessing you've got about sixty seconds before they find I'm not in my room and begin scouring the base. And that's assuming I don't start screaming." A small shrug punctuated her statement. Angela's head shook in disbelief, but then Sombra stroked her chin in mock thought. "Maybe I could be persuaded to let you go. What with us being friends and all." When her maniacal smile spread out again, Angela's stomach sank. 

 

So that was it. She was leverage. 

 

"So what do you want?" Angela asked, her voice devoid of its usual warmth. 

 

Sombra chuckled. "Don't be such a spoil sport. I like you, Angie, but I've also helped you out a lot. Like, _a lot_. It's only fair that you pay me back." 

 

"I saved your life and helped you walk again." Angela growled, her gaze becoming sharper with each second. 

 

"And I kept all of Talon from knowing about your little fuck sessions with Reap-boy. Call that even." Sombra's tone quickly matched hers, as if she was speaking to the world's biggest ingrate. "But, I also stopped Gabe from leaving and sent him your way, among other things. I'm nice like that, I take care of my friends." Her smooth calmness returned. "And that's all I ask of you. If, at some point, I should need a _friend's_ help, I want to know I can count on you. And you better hurry, I think someone's coming." 

 

Angela's skin crawled. She hated being used. Feeling like she meant nothing. But she was backed in a corner, there were no other options. "You have my word." She muttered in between sirens. 

 

"Aww, that's my Angie. I knew I could depend on you. Here, let me add onto your tab and delay these guys a while." Jabbing a thumb over her shoulder, Sombra manuvered so she was facing the incoming guards. "Oh, and Angie?" 

 

Angela paused her typing into the panel. 

 

"If you ever try to cross me, I'll make sure everyone on the planet knows about you and Gabe." 

 

With a mischievous little grin, Sombra hobbled off, leaving one very queasy Angela in her wake. 

 

"Toodles, _mija_!" 


	10. Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I know someday you'll have a beautiful life  
> I know you'll be a sun  
> In somebody else's sky  
> But why  
> Why  
> Why can't it be  
> Can't it be mine?"

**CHAPTER TEN**  

 

 _Rage pooled in his stomach. He couldn't stand this any longer. Couldn't be trapped under Jack's thumb, or bullshit restrictions of the world that_ _Overwatch_ _—no, that_ ** _he_** _had worked so hard to save. He couldn't, wouldn't take it anymore. It was time for a little talk with_ _Overwatch's_ _commander._  

 

 _And Reyes wouldn't be leaving his weapons behind._  

 

 ********  

 

Reyes watched her from the cockpit—subtly—as he had since she entered the hanger. Of course, when Angela came dashing through Talon's hanger like a bat out of hell, he didn't think much of it. But when she didn't even question the state of the unconscious Talon pilot he had incapacitated earlier, Reaper began to worry about her. 

 

But he curbed his concern. He couldn't afford to worry about her more than he had to. Not anymore. 

 

Thus, cruising at high altitude in a self-piloting plane in the middle of the night, Reaper leaned his back against the frame between the cockpit and cargo hold—the hold where Angela sat and stared at her hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept watch of her, but Reyes made a point to create some distance. He had to. 

 

"Gabriel?" 

 

His name gripped his throat like a vice when it spilled from her lips. After a brief swallow, Reyes managed to release a non-committal hum. 

 

"Why did Widowmaker attack me? I thought she wasn't allowed to..." Angela's voice trailed, either reaching the end of her thought or unable to form anything further. Reyes didn't reply. He wasn't sure how to. "Were you ordered to kill me?" 

 

Reaper's knees almost buckled, his head spinning to look at Angela more fully. Slowly, she met his gaze, her eyes dull from exhaustion of both her body and spirit. His shoulders fell. The resignation in her face was so not like his Angela. "Yes." He stated plainly. 

 

"Recently?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

Angela nodded a bit and returned her focus to her hands. "Is that what you were going to tell me in the hallway?" 

 

A memory Reyes didn't exactly need at the moment, but with an extreme amount of effort, he pushed it from his mind. "Yes it is." Fixing his own eyes on the metal in front of him, he tried to empty his being of any emotions that bucked against his control. 

 

Thankfully, Angela stopped talking then. Curling into herself a bit more, she wrapped her arms around her knees and settled into a loose ball. She was more than smart enough to figure out what happened. Widow either figured out that Angela was much more than just the local doctor, or she was also ordered to remove her. Perhaps both. And he was positive Angela was feeling a multitude of things—deceived in some way was likely what would have been at the top of _his_ list—but she stayed eerily silent for hours after that. 

 

He hoped she would get some sleep, however the woman wore a familiar expression of trauma that he had long recognized as the start of a long night. 

 

 ********  

 

 _How damn long had he been pacing the hallway_ _?_ _He had never been a coward, and he couldn't even say that this was fear._ _S_ _omething_ _just_ _held him back._ _Reyes couldn't put his finger on what_ ** _it_** _was, but whatever the case,_ ** _it_** _kept his steps confined to the loop he'd been following over and over in the hall. This_ ** _thing_** _was only fueling his rage, each pass over the_ _well-worn_ _floor churning over his anger like an avalanche._  

 

 _Reyes had never held back in anything, not conversation,_ _sex,_ _battle, and especially not letting someone have it who screwed him over. So what was different this time?_  

 

 _His ears perked at a sound down the hallway, and his steps paused. Someone was coming. Reyes didn't move or try to hide himself away, he didn't give a flying rat's ass if someone saw him steaming, alone in the hallway. When the delicate footsteps rounded the corner, though, that_ ** _thing_** _in the pit of his stomach twisted his guts up._  

 

 _"Reyes? Is everything alright?" Dr. Ziegler_ _'s soft voice rang._  

 

 ********  

 

"We're almost there." 

 

Reyes called back, watching the clouds whip by the windshield. His claws dug into both unoccupied seats, tension radiating in every fiber of his being. With every second they were away from Talon's base, his discontent grew. He knew this feeling. He'd felt incarnations of it before. And just thinking of those memories made him nauseous. This would be so much worse. 

 

"Where is 'there'?" Angela replied, her voice sounding a bit hoarse from lack of sleep. 

 

"A Talon safe house. No cameras, no other agents. We'll stay until tomorrow night and figure out where to take you from there." Digging his claws further into the seats, Reyes barely noticed the loud popping sound that accompanied his talons cutting through each chair's upholstery. "Be ready to land." 

 

His body stiffened when he felt two slender arms wrap around his midsection, a light weight on his back where Angela rested her cheek. "I will be." She breathed. 

 

Gabriel forced his body not to move, not to scoop her up and comfort her, or promise he would keep her safe by any means. Instead, he let her mold her body to his while he remained motionless. The entire time, only one thought ran through his mind. 

 

For the best. Can't do it again. For the best. Can't do it again... 

 

 ********  

 

 _Staying dead silent, Reyes focused on the sound of Angela's feet. Her steps paused, she was waiting for him to answer. Then, they started forward and_ _stuttered to a stop again. Closer._  

 

 _"Reyes?" She repeated his name, and he could sense her hand was closing in on his shoulder. Whipping around, Reyes caught her wrist and earned a gasp. The_ _blonde's eyes widened up at him, studying his every action as if to_ _discern_ _his intent. He wasn't sure of his intent, but he couldn't accept her touch. "What is happening in you?" Angela whispered, "You have been so different... What is this?"_  

 

 _Her eyes were filled to the brim with concern as they bore down into him to try and rip his answers free. Slowly, Reyes gentled his harsh grasp on her and took in her appearance. She was heading out on a mission. Leaving. Fine, probably better that she wouldn't be around to interfere._  

 

 _Guiding her hand back down to her side, Reyes finally took the time to study her face, burning each feature into his mind with a careful meticulousness. Her cheekbones, her brow, her delicate nose, her pale lips—trembling oh so slightly—and her deeply blue eyes. He said nothing, as he reached his hand up and brushed the backs of his fingers down her jawline._  

 

 _Reyes understood what was gnawing on his insides. It was the sickening knowledge that whatever was about to happen, would be the end. The end of his relationships as he knew them, the end of everything as he knew it. There could be no other way, as far as he was concerned. And he was actually apprehensive, because among other things, he would be forever damaging this woman. She would never forgive him. She would never understand._  

 

 _And that meant she would always side with Jack._  

 

 _He could feel it, the anger_ _wrenching_ _his facial features. Angela's tears beginning to spill was enough. Snapping his hand away, Reyes spun on his toes and stormed off. No more hiding or putting it off. The time had come._  

 

 ********  

 

They had made it to the safehouse without issue or delay, and Reyes was cautious enough to comb the house and the area to ensure there really weren't any cameras. And since, Angela sat on the lone, battered couch in the living space while Reaper leaned against the wall, watching the world through a crack in the curtain. All of his other senses were tuned to Angela, listening to her shuffle now and again as she attempted to get comfortable, or sneeze from all the collected dust in such an underused house. 

 

Reaper told himself he was watching for signed that anyone saw them. The house was fairly isolated, but a small plane landing anywhere, even stealthily, raised a risk of being spotted. Plus, he watched for any signs of Talon, should someone have followed them. That's what Reaper told himself. In truth, he was avoiding Angela like she was a leper. 

 

And she was beginning to notice. 

 

"Why are you staring out that window?" She questioned, suspicion lacing her voice. Reyes tilted her a brief look, before returning his attention out the glass. "Gabriel." It came out much more stern than he was accustomed to hearing. 

 

With a sigh, Reyes fidgeted the curtain out of his way a bit more—but not too much—to give his hands something to do, "Keeping watch. Someone has to, and I don't think you're in a good mental state for such a thing." 

 

He could feel Angela's eyes narrow on him. "Did you not say there were no cameras here? Sombra has taken care of the video footage on base," It didn't escape Reaper's notice that Angela's voice hitched on Sombra's name, "And no one knows where I am. There is no need for you to keep this vigil." 

 

Gabriel knew she was right. He really needed to save his energy for when it was actually needed. However, his need to self-protect overrode anything else. So, he stayed silent. 

 

A bit of time passed, the cloud he had been watching finally drifted from view and revealed stars. That's when Angela spoke again, softer, "Please, Gabriel." Her brokenness almost undid him. "Would you please come here? I... I need you. I need... well, I do not know. Comfort? Please?" That small whimper in her voice that she tried to hide let him know she was on the brink of tears. 

 

God, he was an asshole. 

 

At this point, Reyes couldn't bring himself to look at her, nor could he force any words out. What could he even say, should he actually try? There was nothing to justify his pushing her away. Nothing. Angela gave him ample time to stitch some semblance of an excuse together, but all he managed was a shake of his head. 

 

"So you reap the rewards of a relationship, but you will not give back an ounce when I need it?" 

 

Shit. That brought Gabriel's head spinning back towards her. A haze of light filtered from his mask, flaring with the surge of guilt. Angela's face was barely visible in the darkness of the room, but what little moonlight did spill in showed fragments of pain and anger burning on her tear stained face. "That's not what this is, Angela." But she was nodding before he even finished. 

 

"I think it _is_. Gabriel, I almost died today! I am so tired and still hurting from being shot! Things have happened to me that I cannot begin to explain, and I have a terrorist organization thirsting for my head on a spike! But you refuse to bring yourself to hug me? Am I just sex to you then? Is that all—" 

 

"Woah, woah!" Reaper's bark stemmed Angela's rant. "You have never been, nor will you ever be just some booty-call to me. You should know that." He scolded. 

 

Angela sunk back into the couch, some of her piss and vinegar draining. "I do not know what to believe. As soon as things get difficult, you abandon me. And I am well aware you are protecting me, and rescuing me. But..." Her head shook and he would have sworn he saw more tears overflow down her cheeks. "Gabriel, you are no longer just my 'keeper'. We left that line in the dust long ago. And... I want to enjoy any time with you we have left." With a sniffle, she dragged her arm across her eyes and settled herself so her back was more squarely facing him, "Keep your watch, and let me know when it is time to leave." 

 

Reyes struggled to keep a groan contained in his throat as he turned to peer back out the window. He didn't want this. He needed the distance, but he didn't _want_ it. It was actually more sickening to think that Angela would imply that he didn't care about her, even above his disgust at a notion like letting her go and never seeing her again. Yet, here he was, basking in the knowledge that this exhausted woman he loved was actually feeling used. 

 

Though he didn't blame her, it also bothered him that her emotions drove her to such an extreme so quickly. Surely, denying her a hug and keeping quite didn't warrant questioning every intention he ever had, right? 

 

Little by little, Gabriel's shoulders fell along with his guard. His anguish wasn't worth throwing Angela away like garbage. Especially not when she was tired, battered, and emptied. With one last peek to ensure everything really was safe—life just as motionless as it had been all night—and a sigh, Reyes drifted over and carefully slid behind Angela's form. Wriggling his arms under hers, he hugged her back against him and nuzzled her neck with his mask. 

 

"I do not want pity, Gabriel." She sniffled, even as her body trembled against a sob. 

 

Reyes squeezed her tighter, "Do you know what I went through the first time I left you behind, Angela?" Her cries tapered off, a bit of tension seeping out as she listened. Reaper groaned. "Pretty sure it was the single worst part of that shitstorm." Releasing her with one arm, Reyes popped his mask off and pressed a kiss into her hairline. "And now, I'm being forced to do it again. This one isn't my choice." With a bitter chuckle, he replaced his arm around her midsection, "It's pretty obvious our little... _arrangement_ wasn't permanent. But, I guess part of me hoped it was." 

 

A little sob heaved out of Angela, maybe one of agreement, as she then covered his arms with her own. Gabriel nuzzled a bit further into the nape of her neck. "I don't know how I'll do it again, Angela." He hissed in a breath and ground his teeth at the thought. 

 

Her thumb ran back and forth along his forearm, before a little woeful giggle passed her lips. "I guess you should have shot me when you had the chance, hm?" 

 

Reyes couldn't help the pained laugh that bubbled in his chest. "Guess so." Leaning back against the arm rest, he pulled her with him into a lounge. "I'll always love you, Angela." 

 

Snuggling back into him, Angela sucked in a shuddered breath. "I will always love you too, Gabriel." 

 

 ********  

 

 _As she watched him trek down the hall,_ _hat_ _red_ _and anger pouring off his being, Reyes could almost hear her soft voice chasing after him._  

 

 _"Gabriel..."_  

 

 ********  

 

They had stayed up all night, and only after the sun had broken open the sky did Angela finally fall asleep. Reyes held onto her all the while, his gaze blankly falling on the concealed window. He didn't mind letting her sleep. It was a gift just to feel her breathing. To know she was still there, for the time being. It would be their last day together, and Gabriel couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than just being in her presence. 

 

When Angela finally awoke, they began devising where she would go. Tentatively, she tip-toed around information related to Overwatch—that bitch ass monkey probably sent out a signal to all the agents—and Angela had been considering Winston's mysterious offer when Reaper happened to snatch her up. Any idea related to Overwatch burned under his skin like hot coals, but Reyes conceded that the bitch ass monkey and overly perky Brit were probably Angela's safest option. Her safety was his top priority above all else. She didn't seem as worried about Talon hunting her down, but she didn't know Amelie's persistence. 

 

Reyes would stop in Angela's apartment and grab her some clothes. He would attempt to find anything he could to cover up her figure and disguise her. Then, she would contact Overwatch, Winston, and tell them what happened—minus a few spicy details, of course. At first, Angela rejected the idea, she didn't want to paint yet another target on Reaper's back, but after some thorough explanation, Gabriel convinced her why it was essential. 

 

Not only did she need them to know why Talon would be hunting her so vigorously, but if they found out anything that happened from someone other than her, she would be subject to questions like _"is Angela a double agent?"_  

 

So they waited. With their plan in place, they waited and soaked in each other's company. Talking, laughing, and savoring. But all too soon, the blanket of night draped across the landscape and Reyes sighed. "We better go." 

 

Angela's shoulders dropped just as far as her expression when she nodded. With a harsh breath, Reyes kissed the top of her head and stood, gingerly working any kinks from his joints. Hesitantly, Angela followed. And after replacing his mask, Reaper lead the way out. 

 

 ********  

 

Angela was waiting on an adjacent building while Reyes slipped his way into her apartment. He assured her, so long as she stayed low, below the lip of brick, no one would see her and no overhead equipment would find her. He was only going to be a couple minutes anyways. 

 

His smoke poured into her apartment, and as he formed from the vapors, Reaper took in what he found. Everything was in an exact order, as was to be expected from Angela, but dust had collected since she'd been gone that he guessed would have driven her insane had she seen it. The only messy thing in her home was her pile of work papers on the desk, but even that seemed it be in a specific order. It brought a smile to his face. Angela was always so organized, even when she was a prisoner of Talon. It was one of the many things he loved about her. 

 

His smile dropped when he remembered why he was here. To get Angela what she needed to escape back to Overwatch. Clothes, necessities. 

 

Luckily, Angela's organization made finding what he needed extremely easy. Tucked up in her bedroom closet was a duffle bag that already had some essential items packed away, and after grabbing a thick jacket among some other articles, Reyes scanned her bedroom to ensure he hadn't missed something important. Once he was satisfied, Reyes looped the bag around himself and evaporated up into the nearest vent. 

 

It took a few extra minutes to get back to Angela, since he decided on a stealthy route to be safe, but once he reached the roof, he materialized and hunkered beside the lightly chilled doctor. 

 

"Here." Reyes yanked her thick jacket from the duffle and draped it around Angela. "I grabbed you different shoes too, if you'd like those." Yanking the strap off himself, he began digging through to find anything she needed immediately. But a soft sigh drew his attention. 

 

Angela's face was buried in her jacket, inhaling the scent. Gabriel paused his scavenging to watch her, and he tilted his head slightly upon her actions. When Angela's eyes fluttered open, her gaze fell to him, and she gently cupped his masked cheek. "It already smells like you." 

 

Reyes leaned into her touch. It was unsurprising that it smelled like him, considering it had gone through his smoky liquidation with him, but tugged on his heart to know that brought her comfort. With a rough swallow, he reached into his coat and pulled his small communication panel free. "Take this, you can use it to call Overwatch and give them your coordinates. Tell them you swiped it off of me or something, that's what I plan to tell Talon." 

 

Angela tilted her head. "You want Talon to think I am a thief?" 

 

"They already want to kill you, what's one more thing?" Reyes drew a giggle from Angela and he smirked at her expression. 

 

Taking his offering, Angela stared at it for a few moments, blankly. "Gabriel?" He hummed in response while he dug out a scarf he'd grabbed, "Does this _have_ to be goodbye?" 

 

Reaper froze. Halting his hands, he drew away from the bag and faced her more fully. "I don't exactly think Overwatch or Talon would be cool with us going on a date, do you?" 

 

Angela shook her head. "But... Does that mean it has to be goodbye?" Her question drilled into him, attempting to bring some kind of hope. After a bundle of speechless seconds, Angela pushed herself to her feet and activated the comms Reaper had given her access to. After some effort to disconnect it from Talon's grip, Angela punched in data and began an encrypted call back from where Winston had called her. The screen displayed incoming soundwaves, and they both watched to see if the call would be received. Soon— 

 

 _"_ _—_ _llo_ _? Hello? Who is this, Athena doesn't recognize you?"_  

 

Winston. The gorilla's distinctive voice poured through the connection, and instantly, a smile broke out across Angela's face, tears gathering in her already exhausted eyes. "Winston, it is me. Angela Ziegler." 

 

 _"Mercy!"_ His shout made her jump, _"I've been worried sick about you! I thought perhaps something happened to you, or maybe you wanted nothing to do with us or—"_  

 

"Slow down." Angela chuckled. "Look, I will explain everything later. Something..." She paused, eyeing Reaper, who gave a curt nod, "Something did happen. Talon took me hostage. I got away, but they are after me. I need some kind of evac, can you help?" 

 

 _"Say no more, we'll be ready in a flash. Hold for a second and I'll triangulate your location. Are you hurt?"_  

 

"No no, I am relatively fine." With a long breath, Angela wet her lips and looked down at her feet, "I just want to come home. To Overwatch. If you will have me." 

 

The line was silent briefly, before a deep chuckle vibrated in the air. _"Of course we'll have you, Angela. Hold tight and we'll be there in a jiffy."_  

 

Reaper thought he heard some high-pitched, English accent in the background of the call, hollering some annoying bullshit, but he tried not to listen. He didn't want to hear any of the bastards. Eventually, Angela ended the communication, sitting back down with her back to the bricks. An AI powered plane was on its way, and Angela would soon be off into an opposing life, completely separated from Gabriel. 

 

No words were exchanged at first, they simply held a gaze. After a while, Reyes scooped up her hands and ran his thumbs across her fingers. 

 

"I'm sorry." The words were barely audible, so soft and nearly swept away with the breeze, but Gabriel said them. And Angela heard them. She squeezed his hands and smiled in return. She knew, he was apologizing for so very many things. His violence toward her, his threats, imprisoning her, enslaving her, hurting her, making her cry, making her care, and ripping her heart out along with his own. There were so many things to apologize for, he was simply glad that Angela would accept two words for them all. 

 

Lifting their joined hands, Angela pressed a kiss into each glove and smiled. "Thank you." He could see in her eyes, her words covered many things as well. She was thanking him for protecting her, saving her over and over, and putting his own ass on the line with Talon for her. Maybe she was even thanking him for the relationship they finally engaged in. It had been good while it lasted. 

 

While it lasted. 

 

Cringing, Reyes pushed himself to his feet and stepped back. "I should go." He moved to leave, to escape this nightmare, but then Angela sprang up and launched herself into his arms. 

 

"Wait!" She buried her face in his armored chest, and clung so tightly, he couldn't have left if he wanted. Blowing out a harsh breath, Reyes squeezed her small frame in return. "This cannot be it. I refuse to go back to a world without you." Her words were a bit muffled, but they dug into him just as hard. "I did that once, too. I never want to go through it again." 

 

Tilting her head back, Angela looked him in the face—before tilting back his mask so she could actually look him in the face. Her eyes shone with a sincerity that had him believing she was willing to write a formal, noterized letter to Talon, explaining why they couldn't be separated again. Releasing a pained groan, Reyes took a final advantage of her angled face, and kissed her with every ounce of emotion that built in his chest. He never got sick of her taste, or her feel, her smell, _her_. 

 

Time seemed to slow for how long they stayed interlocked, but finally, some survival instinct inside him screamed that he actually had to go or he would end up outrunning a plane. Slowly parting, Reyes felt a nearly physical pain from Angela's absence. Opening his eyes to find hers, bathed in the light of his internal glow, he watched Angela's head shake nearly involuntarily. "This cannot be goodbye." She whispered. 

 

It tore him up to hear her so torn up. He wanted nothing more than to be able to do something. _Anything_. Tipping his head back, Reyes started at the stars for a long while, just trying to find words to piece together. Along with the twinkling orbs, Reyes found a speck of insight. "We found our way back to each other once, right?" His voice was solemn, but as he refocused his gaze on Angela, he saw a spark of hope glittering in her eyes. "Guess we shouldn't rule it out somehow happening again. Who knows," He shot her a playful wink, before he concealed his face to hide any anguish seeping into his features, "Maybe I'll get the itch to kidnap you again?" 

 

Angela softly smiled, recognizing his attempt to cheer her up. But as her gaze fell, she slowly brought her hand up in between them, Reaper's panel clutched firmly in her grasp. "Maybe... Maybe we _will_ find our way back to each other. Eventually." The hope in her was now a blaze, and it was beginning to burn him with its intensity. 

 

Her idea with the panel wasn't wrong. She did possess it, and it had been his. He knew how it worked, and just might have been able to rig something that concealed his contact with her. But that was assuming he survived answering for the events involving her, and that the panel wasn't taken by Overwatch to use against Talon. It was a long shot. 

 

However, another reality sank into him. Some miniscule chance was better than none. Perhaps Angela's hope was simply contagious. She had always been such an optimist. But knowing his own shit luck... 

 

Reyes wasn't about to crush her though. Instead, he gave a nod. "Eventually." Cupping her face, he lightly swept a thumb over her cheek. "Take care, Angela." 

 

Her face contorted in pain once more. "This cannot be goodbye. It is _not_." She was insistent if nothing else. Placing her hand over his, she nuzzled into his hand while her tears sank into his glove. "I think we should call it 'see you later'. _Ja_? See you later." She nodded a few times to punctuate. 

 

Reaper felt a smile creeping across his broken face. "Alright." He stepped back and gave her a limp salute with two fingers. "See you later, Angela." 

 

Her smile was broken hearted, but at least it was there. "I love you." 

 

Giving a nod, Reyes began to shadow step, sinking into a pool of shadows beneath him. "I love you too." 

 

 ********  

 

 _As she watched him trek down the hall,_ _hat_ _red_ _and anger pouring off his being, Reyes could almost hear her soft voice chasing after him._  

 

 _"Gabriel..."_  

 

 ********  

 

As she watched him evaporate, leaving her behind, Reaper could almost hear her soft voice chasing after him, a promise infused in her words. 

 

"See you later, Gabriel." 

 

 **END**  

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you so, so much to every single person who took a load of time out of their lives to read my little*coughGIGANTICcough* story. I hope it was worth it. If you're wondering, the lyrics above were what spurred the whole idea for this fic, including the name of it (and the name of the chapter) so I figured it was fitting to include them. Thank you, Pearl Jam, for writing the most depressing song ever. I've seen comments saying you guys (for some reason lol) don't want this to end, but I'll reiterate what I said. This is simply the end of BH&BG, I still have plans to write fics based in this same universe. I'll probably link them all into a series.
> 
> Yes, I'm very long-winded.
> 
> THANK YOU EVERYONE! I hope you enjoyed my ramblings, and I hope you stick around to see what comes next. <3 Y'all illuminate my days. <3


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